isolt griffin
Isolt lingers beyond the solid wood of the door that separates her quarters from what has become a maelstrom of foreign accoutrement, made such by the presence of the strangers that have taken up residence in what remains of the home that she and Harley had built. In more ways that just one she is filled with gratitude for the offhanded solace that their presence provides, having offered her even this small salvation from the true weight of her home's emptiness; however, Isolt finds herself yearning for more. So long has she existed in near-absolute solitude, apprehensive that whatever stigma undoubtedly came as companion to being a vampire might have them meet her with disdain, with fear. Much as Alexis had. And it is an unbearable notion to believe that she may be shunned further by these individuals she had so humbly allowed to linger in a home that was no longer; so she has continued to keep mostly to herself, no matter how greatly she might want for companionship.

It could be presumed with some accuracy that this merciless desire for companionship is what dictates that Isolt wait with such anticipation for the sun to retreat into its galactic cradle, taking with it the last long fingers of its radiance and forfeiting Sacrosanct to its myriad night-dwellers. More so it might have been the particular company that was promised come nightfall, Damon having proven quite enjoyable company for the fledgling vampire. He had offered her salvation, reprieve from Risque's tyrannical dominion... if only for the short while she was normally able to spend in his company. Regardless, the young auburn-haired woman emerges from within the now-darkened cavern of her quarters, making short work of the distance to the door and gliding out into the darkness of the night. The warm and titillating aroma of sunshine lingers upon the night's cool zephyr, teasing Isolt with memories of its rays kissing her upturned cheeks. What she wouldn't have given to feel it again...

The journey is a short one, yet another benefit of immortality being that Isolt frequently finds herself able to travel about at quite impressive paces. A dazzling smile spreads across ruby-red lips as the young vampire draws near to her company for the evening. It has been some time since last they had seen one another, Isolt's absence dictated in no small part by her confinement within Syn; and yet so much has transpired since then that it would appear far more time had gone by. The impromptu escape from her maker's expertly-crafted hell had been bittersweet, freedom had lingered as candied spirits upon her tongue before the acid of reality once again sought to lay its sting to her with the realization of Harley's departure. It was a wound still fresh and weeping within a heart that seemed so jaded as of late, and yet somehow Isolt had managed to flourish, at least physically, since last Damon had laid eyes upon her. The supple curtain of her auburn locks burned as molten flame against her back even in the dead of night's darkest hour, her eyes glowing an unearthly azure as if able to emanate their own light, the glow of immortal health glimmering from the pallor of her skin. It would appear that Damon's teachings had not fallen upon deaf ears nor had they been neglected.

"Fancy meeting you here," she coos softly, approaching at a deliberate saunter, one curious brow pitched skyward.