Being one of the numerous newcomers to Rhy Din, it was not long before Hope found herself drawn to the area just west of the busy hub where the popular Red Dragon Inn resided. It was this evening that she found her curiosity getting the better of her as she drifted toward the border of the Old City. There was something shapeless and delicious to her senses that cooed in her ear; lifted on the soft breeze that caressed her as the sun fell below the horizon in quiet defeat.
Hope began to sink into the sweet tingle that existed in her soul, existed in her form, dictated by what she was. The wicked tickle started on her tongue, moving quickly to the back of her throat. Next came her favorite part of every awakening...the tumbling sensation as her hunger raced from her throat to her stomach, there to rest in a nest of sultry rhythmic strides that egged on her long legs. Unlike most humans who are taken by a kindred, Hope actually didn't mind her altered state. In fact, she reveled in it; she looked upon it as an embellishment. She knew that she was stronger and faster than most people, but above that, she took pride in her strengthened senses. Trained in theater for a decade and a half before she was plunged into the so-called "half life" of a kindred, she appreciated her ability to see, hear and smell better. "All things to help aid the illusion," she was fond of saying. She leaned into her steps, reaching the area of the city known as the West End. There was something about the air here...something that singed her nostrils. As her stride carried her effortlessly through the neighborhood, she was nearly salivating on the smells and sounds of her surroundings. The pale tip of Hope's tongue slid forward on her bottom lip, newly painted with reddish stain, and tasted the air. She picked up the bittersweet aroma of sweat, adrenaline, and trouble. She stopped and watched a huddled couple cross the dirty street, sharing a dingy cloak to keep from the elements. From the muted giggles of the woman, and the way parts of the cloak poked and prodded, she knew that they were doing more than simply holding the fabric in place. Another lick on her lips, a taste of the air, garnered a new scent. She grinned darkly, then watched the couple hastily disappear into a back alley.
Hope indulged in a light chuckle as she kept moving deeper into the area, thinking to herself that she was bound to enjoy her new surroundings. Another lurch of the tingle deep down in her body reminded her she needed to feed...and perhaps find a bit of trouble as well. After all, she knew the West End was rank with trouble.
Hope began to sink into the sweet tingle that existed in her soul, existed in her form, dictated by what she was. The wicked tickle started on her tongue, moving quickly to the back of her throat. Next came her favorite part of every awakening...the tumbling sensation as her hunger raced from her throat to her stomach, there to rest in a nest of sultry rhythmic strides that egged on her long legs. Unlike most humans who are taken by a kindred, Hope actually didn't mind her altered state. In fact, she reveled in it; she looked upon it as an embellishment. She knew that she was stronger and faster than most people, but above that, she took pride in her strengthened senses. Trained in theater for a decade and a half before she was plunged into the so-called "half life" of a kindred, she appreciated her ability to see, hear and smell better. "All things to help aid the illusion," she was fond of saying. She leaned into her steps, reaching the area of the city known as the West End. There was something about the air here...something that singed her nostrils. As her stride carried her effortlessly through the neighborhood, she was nearly salivating on the smells and sounds of her surroundings. The pale tip of Hope's tongue slid forward on her bottom lip, newly painted with reddish stain, and tasted the air. She picked up the bittersweet aroma of sweat, adrenaline, and trouble. She stopped and watched a huddled couple cross the dirty street, sharing a dingy cloak to keep from the elements. From the muted giggles of the woman, and the way parts of the cloak poked and prodded, she knew that they were doing more than simply holding the fabric in place. Another lick on her lips, a taste of the air, garnered a new scent. She grinned darkly, then watched the couple hastily disappear into a back alley.
Hope indulged in a light chuckle as she kept moving deeper into the area, thinking to herself that she was bound to enjoy her new surroundings. Another lurch of the tingle deep down in her body reminded her she needed to feed...and perhaps find a bit of trouble as well. After all, she knew the West End was rank with trouble.