His tongue ached. Every breath, blink, and bite proved exhausting, pulling him deeper into the night. A fluttering motion ran over Altair's eyelids as they gestured open. Confusion by the sting of flesh-blood massaging the ache. It was sweet. He blinked, cradling the stranger in his arms tighter.
Her scent seemed familiar, but her blood was anything but. She had dark skin with large golden eyes that shone in the night, and her neck a red ruin of his design. He blinked, too weak to think who was carrying him.
'Who is this…' he wondered; she was certainly warm enough. Slowly, his palms reached up, grabbing onto something soft. A moan sounded from lips, startling the night. Voices echoed around faster than he could see, reaching back and forth too quickly for him to understand. He squeezed even harder, his lips and fangs sinking into the red within the black.
"Master." The lilting moans were familiar. "We~Are~Not~Alone~"
