Deep into the core of its very being, something about what he became halted that fury and rage, something in the blood of ancestors, tradition maybe? Inherited from the venom of Bella, Anastasia and Saria watched Nic stand there, scanning the camp.
All that madness has subsided and his ears are up, twisting like radar dishes to comb in every sound it might miss, his nose tipping and turning, receiving information that's new, yet somehow familiar.
"Why would he come here?" Saria whispered.
"We're about to find out, so far it looks like the blood did nothing, he seems to be, reminiscing something" Anastasia said in an even lower tone.
Nicolas slowly followed that scent, inside this haze of red a voice called out in the form of smell, something or someone, her sweet essence licked at the insane brain and brought back something.
