Marcelo has always been a selfish creature at best and frankly rather unloyal too. He had been loyal to his family, the whole of them having to work together to provide for their small brood. The entire reason Marcelo had gone on to the ship to a journey that would change his entire life, his fate, everything really. Though, with his family long gone, not having seen them in centuries due to his immortality, they had all aged and eventually passed on, whether to heaven, hell, or simply a hole in the ground, Marcelo would never know. But since then, he had become a nomad, only staying in places for so long due to the strange looks and raised eyebrows as he ceased to age, always retaining his youthful appearance even as his peers began to change with the seasons. Had there been enough from the fountain, and had he not been near death after his attack, no doubt the jackal would have shared the water with his family, a family of immortals they would have become, but alas fate had had other plans for the were boy.

He had served his family, willingly and dutifully, as all the sons did within the family. When he was not helping with his mother or younger siblings, he found himself in the market place. Though, the boy with hair of bronzed gold would be in the market place far more often when there was a food shortage about his home. He had cared for his family, he had not been about to let them starve, nor himself for that matter. So those impulses he constantly tried to control ever since the first time his mother caught him he finally let them loose, snagging fruits vegetables, bread, an occasional piece of meat if he could manage it, or maybe even some sweets as a treat. It was Marcelo's gift, just as his father's was wisdom, his mother beauty, and each of his brothers had a special gift, strength, intelligence, and courage, even his little sister possessed the gift of music, Marcelo was a thieving fool, and the worst part, he was just so good at it.

Of course, while his thieving started with the brightest of his intentions, Marcelo's moral compass skewed drastically after his family passed and he remained a live, frozen in time, his eternal youth. He had ceased living with his family less than a decade after her had taken that life saving sip of water, he had been receiving strange looks, which the were boy could handle, but as talk of witchcraft began to slip through whispered words and made its way to Marcelo's home, that is when he knew he must leave, he would not have his family punished in spite of him. For though Marcelo would be hanged, he would survive of course, but his family would face a terrible punishment for having harbored him within their home, and their lack of immortality would leave them dead by rope, drowning, or flame. It was something Marcelo could not bare to think about. And so he left. He took nothing, leaving it all to his family, he had not even bothered putting shoes on his feet. For he knew, anything he would wish for, he could get. It was all slight of hand.

He sits there against the tree, the pain clawing within his shoulder as he feels the silver bullet nearly burning his flesh from the inside out. A hand goes upward, fingertips reaching into his mess of brandished gold locks and tugs lightly as if it is an attempt to dispel some of the pain from his shoulder. So caught up he is in his own misery, that the girl is nearly able to sneak up on her. But he knows the scent of dark hunter as easily as he would know the smell of food and water. And it is female. The jackal grows quietly in warning, having only just turned back to human, he can still feel the animal within banging down the doors begging to be let loose once more. She whispers a greeting and the were boy simply snarls in response, as any injured animal would do. It is a warning for her, 'do not come any closer to me.' Say the word and Marcelo will transform, ready to tear off heads. The jackal may be a smaller size predator when compared to the mighty lion or ferocious tiger, but they were just as dangerous as their counterparts, his bite sharp and hard, ripe for the tearing of flesh from bone. But as the hunter comes around the corner, the jackal immediately sizes her up, as would any scavenger, he immediately decides the petite thing is no threat to him. Though his dark eyes still watch her with suspicion.

She offers to help him, the exact opposite of what most dark hunters would do in such a situation. The boy with the now tousled hair leaves her question unanswered, biting back the pain. But then, those same dark eyes that ere watching the fair girl in a narrowed and aggressive way, suddenly, almost turn humorous as she watches her own bright blue eyes rove over his young, defined torso. And something almost akin to a smile touches his face as her cheeks flood with color as her eyes rest for just the faintest of moments onto his boxers, his only article of clothing that had made it through his transformation. Unfortunate really, Marcelo really did like his grey vans, well, all the more excuse to go out and swipe another pair. Silently, the feral beast within him begins to calm, as the human part of Marcelo breaks through the surface.

"Dont be sorry," he says, voice casual, even, steady, as those earthen eyes peer towards her. It would seem he has almost forgotten all about the bullet in his shoulder, the opportunity to make a pretty girl embarrassed was all too enticing. A distraction from the pain. "Just human flesh," he says, almost over emphasizing each of his words, trying to draw color into her cheeks once more. She acts like she has never seen a a half naked man before. He can smell the stench of dark hunter rolling off her as she speaks her name. Marcelo quickly roves through his mind, having met many dark hunters in his five centuries, but he cannot recall the name Ellie. "What's your family name?" He questions, knowing often family passed the dark hunter tradition down from generation to generation. How deep did her blood run?

He just simply stares at her for a moment with umber eyes before they finally glance to his shoulder. "So are you gonna fix me up or not?" Marcelo then flashes her an almost downright radiant smile. "No need to be afraid of an almost naked man." And he knows he should not say what he is about to say next, but Marcelo is Marcelo and he never changes. "I don't bite in this form, you know, unless that's what you're into." Yeah, he may be should not have said that.