Capizio glanced up to the sky, hoping that the hours would pass quickly and night would soon bles the land with darkness.

He was not his normal confident self today, he was terribly lost. Lost in an unfamiliar world, having brushed by hundreds of unfamiliar people. He looked for a quite place to rest, a quiet place to prepare for the evening.

The sun was hot, beating down on his face, drawing beads of sweat to the surface of his oily skin. His hand raised, glancing across his brow to wipe away the sweat before it could fall into his already aching eyes. He looked at the pool of salty water that now adorned his hand, with a small sigh he flicked his wrist and watched the water as it splashed down.

He saw a few drops land upon a small regtangular peice of wood. The wood was soft, and light in color, and about the size of the bricks used to construct modern homes. Reaching into his pocket, he fumbled with a small carving knife, and began to whittle away at the corners of the wood. He continued the strokes against the wood with his knife as he walked onward, unsure where he was going.

He walked for what seemed like one hundred miles, but in reality it was probably only two. He had not looked at the wood since he first picked it up, his eyes focused on the road ahead of him, and the skies above him. His fingers were all he needed to see what the wooden figurine would become, he let his fingers glide over the curves of the wood, smiling as he could start to see what it looked like, without glancing at it, he knew it was nearly complete, with only a few details to be finished.

He slid the wood, and the carving knife back into his pocket, taking care not to stab himself again.

A large black crow called out from the sky above him, startled he looked up, and let out a cackling cry of his own. The bird from the sky started towards him, spiraling round like a tornado as it found it's way near to him. When the bird was about to collide violently with him, goind quite fast from above, it stopped, as if running into a window made of air. It hovered, as a hummingbird would, in front of him, but it did not flap its wings, it did not make a sound, and it's eyes did not break their gaze.

He took the satchel from his back, and took out a small hunk of dried bread. He broke it in half, keeping a portion for himself, reaching his hand outward at the hovering bird, offering the other portion to him. The bird quickly took the meal, and then made a quick flight back to his original path.

Capizio looked down at the bread, and grimmaced as he took a bite. It was dry, plain, and not a food that he desired at all. He could not sustain himself on this diet for long, he needed to eat.

He looked up from the bread, and found himself staring at a rather large manor, knowing it was probably handed down from generation to generation, and that he would likely find the dead of family buried somewhere on the grounds he took several steps forward toward the lot, trying to take great care not to be noticed.

As the sun reached it's apex in the sky, Capizio continued to search the grounds for what he was looking for. With only a few hours before nightfall, he finally found what he was looking for. He approached the aged iron bars, they looked rusted to him, but still far to strong to break through. The pikes atop the bars made it look most unappealing to climb into, so Capizio looked around, and started to contort himself.

He pushed himself hard against the bars his body seeming to crush down as he forced himself through. It appeared that he lost form as he made his way through the narrow openings.

He looked around at the graves, none of them appearing to belong to nobility or anyone else with social status. Most of the markers were simple slabs of granite, laid with only a date they were set. He took his time investigating the stones, trying to find one or two that were the most recent. He finally found the two that he thought to most suit his needs, and made note of them.

Capizio walked slowly to a tall tree that was growing within the iron fence, and sat against its' base. He tried to take cover from anyone that would notice him in the house, or passing by, it was his intent to wait only an hour until the last of daylight was gone before starting his work, but he found himself comfortable amongst the dead, and dozed off leaning against the tree.

The sharp cracking sound appeared at first in his dream, it came in the form of a hulking tree exploding suddenly, and violently, as if hit directly by lightning. His subconcious told him this was not part of the dream, and that if he valued his existence he'd better wake himself up from a comfortable slumber. Sleeping amongst the dead always makes for the best dreams.

His eyes shot open, appearing black in the mottled light of the cemetary. Streaks of moonlight wormed their way through the trees overhead, exposing the true source of the noise, or at least who had caused it.

He found himself staring at her, seeing her sharpened teeth, the moonlight seemed to focus on them, a spotlight directed at them. He didn't need to see what he already knew, what he could already feel, the woman standing in front of him shared something with him, blood that's not her own, running through her, sourging through her veins, yet, she was not like him. He had never seen another exactly like himself, and for that, he was thankful.

He cautiously extended his legs, and stood up, back against the tree. He was not worried, he was not scared, surly a woman with a whip was no match for him, vampire or not. This is a thought that comforted him, so he kept repeating it, uncertain how true it really was.

The bark of the tree scraped against his back as he rose, with a quiet, and reassuring voice he began to speak.

"This is your land isn't it? I mean you no harm, and I mean to take nothing for you. I was simply looking for a small bit to eat."

His words came out confident, and relaxed, as if he had faced this situation, or ones similar before. As his final words trailed off, he put his hand into his pocket, rubbing gently the curves on the wood which he had shaped some hours earlier.

As the whip cracked a chill glided from his neck, down to his fingertips, and beyond. The sound cut through the slight breeze like a knife into freshly killed flesh, the vision of fresh cut flesh flashed through Capizio's mind it made him salivate a little bit. In this moment, in the darkness, he was nearly lost in that thought, but his will to survive jolted him back, recognizing what his mind did not yet.

The wood in his pocket began to feel warm, the heat senting tingles up through his fingertips, countering the shiver that she had sent through him. He grasped the object lightly between two fingers, and pulled it slowly out of his pocket. He looked at it now, with open eyes for the first time since it was still a solid block of wood.

Inside of him, he felt that he shared something with the fair skinned woman, when he allowed her to see the small statute carved at the same time as him.

The wooden totem, the idol as one might refer to it, was a few inches long. It looks as if it would have taken a master wood worker several days to complete. There were intricate details, as he held it up he compared them to hers, to the woman standing here before him.

The carved hair matched, and even seemed light and flowing as hers was. There were overlays in the wood, as the hair overlayed her eyes in places, the wood was shined flat and smooth, appearing pale in it's tone, very similar to her skin. The nose matched her own in size and shape. The shape of the carving, it's curves matched hers in a perfect scale. Even the whip, carved in the wood, looked as hers did when it was still coiled upon her hip.

He spoke as he offered out the statue to her, in the same calm reassuing voice he thad taken before, seemingly not phased by the whip, and animalistic tone she had taken. "I damaged nothing, the gate was not in my way. Feel free to look it over, but for my intrusion, I offer you this carving as a gift for your inconveniance."

Despite his demure attitude, his fingers shook a little, and he dug his foot into the ground, into the grave directly below him. He shook a little, tremors that were very minor, but enough to make him realize he needed to stand still.

The sound of the silver collars kept echoing in his head, he had to use every dwindling ounce of strength to keep focused on her final words, instead of the clattering sound which continued to reverberate through his head.

He was losing his ability to focus on the mundane, to focus on the living. He was losing the battle inside of himself to maintain composure. "And trespassers", those two words echoed through him, she had the nerve, the gall, to threaten him after he had been so polite to her. "Your little toy, boy", as the rage of being threatened built inside of him, those words shot back through his head, realizing he had also been insulted. To be called a boy, it was something not true, but it's not that which made him feel so insulted. A toy? His carving was not a toy, it was the harbinger of death. He knew this, and he was angry that she clearly did not.

He felt his skin crawling, his fingers now trembling violently. The cold air did nothing to cool him off, he felt himself growing hotter, angrier, less able to control his actions.

His first words back to her, were sharp, his tone becoming shrill, and higher pitched, as his face seemed to flicker a little a bit, his mouth opening wider than his jaws should allow, the skin tightening on his cheeks, his ears flattening back against his head, if not for the darkness one could see how they started to blend back into his scalp.

"You fool! You foolish woman!"

He spat the words out, before he had completely thought about the full impact of what they would be, he tried harder to regain composure. While he was not able to speak quite as calmly and as measured as he was before, he stopped yelling, he stopped hissing. His features, made ugly with anger, deformed with rage, seemed to return to a more normal state. He continued without much of a pause from his earlier words.

"Of course I do not wish to steal from them, look around, I'm not blind, I see this is not a place for honored dead. I know what those graves look like."

He pushed his toes into the ground, moving soil aside. "This one, this one below me is the freshest." As quickly as his tone had gone from snarling and angry to flat and passive, they started to change again. His tone would make someone think his next words came from a teenage boy striken with his first crush. "This is all I want, that which is below me."

Hearing the tone of his own words, lost in the subconscious chatter of his mind, he realized again there was a more urgent situation at hand. His voice quivering slightly again, matching his fingers which had stopped violently shaking, but were still quivering. "Ma'am, I've never seen you before, I carved that figure today. I see with my hands, the things that my eyes will see later."

It hit him like a piano from a rooftop, she really didn't know who, what, he was. A smile appeared on his face, he would enjoy letting her know about himself. Telling the tale of his kind, of a forgotten people.

"I am Capizio, that is my name. What I am, is not a necrophile." His words came out smooth, his confidence restored by what he perceived as the woman's intimidation. He continued at a slow pace, "I am, an Aswang."

He notioned to the fence, "I didn't go over your fence, I didn't go around your fence, I didn't break your gate, or pick your lock, instead... I shifted through your fence. I can take many forms, not bound to any one physical... configuration."

He smiled, and he licked his lips, the hunger washing over him some more, "As for your dead? I only came for a meal. I find in a new place, the locals are not receptive to me taking the fresh dead, or making my own."

He didn't like how she said his name, nor did she like how she pronounced Aswang. It rolled off her toung, sounding more like Ass Wang, a combination which he didn't particularly think belonged together. He managed to let it slide off his back.

"I am named after the place where my parents originate from," he paused a moment "and really, who cares if you don't like it, it's not there to impress you."

He seemed a little confused, unsure if he should make his way to the cemetary down the street, or if he should go inside as she asked. There was a third option that crossed his mind, which was feasting upon her right now, but it quickly left, it was not meant to be.

"I'm afraid, if I don't eat soon... I'll be forced to find the nearest meal, so I hope your lesson is timely."

He started walking back towards the fence, and without giving it a second thought he shifted through it as he did coming in, not making any attempt to hide what he had done from her. He wanted to be sure she recognized him as something unique, not as something that would end up in her own cemetary.

"Are you coming?" He said with a smirk from the other side of the gate.