[The blood of mongrels is hardly enough to satisfy him, but it is enough for what his body demands of him. He thinks, faintly, how Dimitri's blood must be so much more delicious. A Blaiddyd would be exquisite, but it isn't something he would ask for. He could not think to.
So he wraps his lips around the tip of a finger, sucking it off before he wetly pops off of it.]
Doesn't it for you?
[He says it, like it must be obvious for both of him.]
no subject
So he wraps his lips around the tip of a finger, sucking it off before he wetly pops off of it.]
Doesn't it for you?
[He says it, like it must be obvious for both of him.]