OOC: Throwing Bela at her if that's alright.

The vampire sat beneath the shadows of a pine beside the trickling river. He wasn’t sure why he decided to stay up for the day, perhaps the fact that it was cloudy could be the reason for it and that the danger of being burned wasn’t so high. Or it could be that he was missing the daytime; the vampire sometimes felt a great sadness when he couldn’t see or feel the warmth of the Sun, or meet deer when they were most active.
Sighing, he continued his observing of the sorry looking creature that had moved before him. The disheveled doe’s aura was dark, yet he saw flickers of light, and the edges of her aura were retracted to show broken heartedness. He had been deciding whether or not to risk exposure to the Sun to approach her because of her dark aura, but the glimmers and sadness he saw within made the ancient one’s soft heart want to approach.
And so he did.
The vampire rose, taking a glance at the sky; the Sun was well hidden behind the clouds, and he stepped forward toward her. His hoofsteps were near silent as he walked to the muddy shore of the river.
“Madame?” the vampire asked, lowering his head to her level as he made it beside her, “Are you alright?”

“I am Bela,” the vampire said, “And no one, but myself, Madame.” His pale lilac eyes glanced towards the sky for a brief moment again before looking back at her. Blues, greens, and purples shimmered from his neck, wet from the raindrops than dripped on him earlier. “You seem down,” he continued, his pale eyes looking over her dirty and matted form. “Perhaps I may be of assistance?”

”…mauled…” Not a very eloquent way to put it, but he did, tearing the beast’s pale flesh with his claws and fangs. It was indeed a mess, but most feedings usually were, especially with dark creatures. They didn’t give up so easily, but neither did he, especially when he had that uncontrollable thirst.
The ancient one’s stoic face became one of pity when her tears spilled down her white cheeks. He had caught Sacrilege’s scent on her as well. That was really the reason why he was watching her, fearing that he beast had perhaps hurt this dark doe, and it seemed that his very name caused her pain.
Damn. How he hated that pale beast.
“There, there,” Bela said, sitting himself down beside Rosemary, the concern of the sun no longer in his mind. Only this weeping doe.

His undead heart sank as he listened to her sob, her body trembling before him. Listening to another sob only brought back sad and dark memories for him, memories of people begging him to spare their lives when he had little to almost no control over himself. He didn’t want such things to happen, no, not at all.
“Do not apologize,” Bela said, his pale lilac eyes looking at her teary ones. “Could this perhaps be because of Sacrilege?” the ancient one asked. He knew the mentioning of his name would most likely make her more upset, but if it was, it would give him all the more reason to tear the white demon apart.

Ohh, I hope you don't mind me. Going to place a thing here.
--
Some time during the night before, the Folklore had placed herself high up on one of the ruin walls and now she walked scot-free of any dirt or mud. The cold had been unforgiving, and even now the ground made spindles of pain run up her legs. She needed warmth; the sun. A clearing would do, but with the amount of slush on the ground, the grass was a no-no. If there was any grass, anyways.

A boulder would be just as good. The ones within the playground that fawns frequinted. On a day like this, however, with its dark sky and rather miserable feel, Märchen had a feeling there would be less fawns and even less sun. Her disgruntled snort was more for the latter than the former.

It was the wail that halted her in her saunter. Ears turning toward the tree line that would give away to the clearing before the pond. A cry? For what reason? The skull raised her head, nose hole taking in the scents of not only that of the living, but those of things unseen. Wisps and ids, things that had become relevant over the days of being here. Of being alive.

Her gait picked up as she turned her body in the direction of the disturbance, taking on a hunter's pace as she loomed through the brush and into the open. Eyes trailing downward to pick up on the lone, white figure near the base of the pond. Well, it seemed to be mostly white other than the mud caking its limbs. It wasn't until further inspection did she notice it was female, and the id this one gave off was rather dull in color. There were no wounds that she could see however, so that left her only guess to be that it was something deeper. Something inside.

"Mmm, you don't look so good," she commented, looming over the other as her eyes looked over the doe's frame. The tips of her muzzle clicked softly as teeth were ground.

@Charrusekt:

Rosemary was slightly startled by the others voice, creeping over her. She slowly turned her head and rose to her hooves, tipping slightly but regaining her balance immediately. Pain throbbed into her shoulder, but she didn't react much, once pain swung around she would just sigh or feel her lip twitch.
She felt a draw to the others appearance, the mixture of colors made her feel a chill crawl up her spine which made her shiver slightly.

The white doe felt her mouth separate slowly, and her long black glossy tongue slipped elegantly from her jowls while long silver lines of saliva snapped and elasticated back into her chops. She gradually took in the females scent, it was a fresh captivating aroma, she felt goosebumps grow on her skin as she locked in the pleasant odor.
She trapped her prickly dark tongue and felt misery creep over her once again. But with every new encounter, she never had the best manners.

"Who are you. Who sent you here." she spat, with her eyes digging into the others before drifting off into the background, gazing for any of her fathers demons.
She had gotten into the habit of asking everyone such a blunt question since Sacrilege left.

@NikaGika:

She felt almost a dash of relief once he explained he had no interest in Sacrilege. She nodded her head off as she listening to the vampire speak, her dull eyes were locked onto hiss soft lilac ones; what beautiful eyes he had it was easily her first impression.
Once he continued, she felt her heart drop into her stomach, tears tried climbing into her eyes but she forcefully blinked them away, it made her believe that she was just being used by the demon, once she deeply thought about it, it made sense. It hit her like a tone of bricks.

"You're right, I'm a stupid, foolish girl. How could I be so blind?" she spat, snarling to herself. "Look, I don't know what happened, he made me believe he felt what I did, we made a deal, he broke it. God dammit!" she hissed and shook her head repeatedly hoping the thought would fall out of her head completely.

The folklore's head twitched back and — had she the ability to — her brow would have furrowed. Then again, she had crept up on the canid-like doe. She supposed it was only natural that such a retort was thrown at her. But even so, her position did not falter and she held her ground. The black tuft between her shoulders spiking up a bit when the other's gaze lingered beyond her and toward the forest background. Had she seen something Märchen hadn't? A glance over her shoulder, wary eyes seeking out any foreign movement, gave her relief. Nothing.

Normally a little awkward standing with the female gender, Märchen took no hesitation to speak to this one. Though she made sure not to look at her because it helped. Instead, she'd trail her eyes along the waters of the shore as she said in a matter-of-fact tone, "No 'one' sent me. I move on my own..." A pause. "Why is it that you wail?" Once her eyes glanced into the other's before looking around once again. It was a force of habit. To always watch your back in an open area. Wasn't it?

She thought so. It was also an excuse, but there wasn't any need to discuss her reasons.

The vampire watched her in thought; if this doe loved that demon, then perhaps there was some good within him? But auras do not lie, and he could not help but think that Sacrilege merely manipulated her. He will see. He only wished for the best for the doe because he understood. He loved a vile creature just like she, even if the love was bonded by the powers of vampirism. The fledgling always loved the one who turned them, no matter how evil, vile, and cruel they were. For him, it was nearly impossible to deny his "Mother," even if she made him do the worst things imaginable.

"I am glad," the vampire said. He truly hoped he helped Rosemary. "And to be quite honest, I was observing you. I scented Sacrilege upon you, and I thought I would check upon your well being."

Only when the other looked away did Märchen turn her head to look at her, only to follow their gaze toward the pond. A small sniff and a simple focusing act, and the smell of water made her nose tingle. It had been so many years since she had seen the stuff. Or maybe it hadn't been years. Who knew how long the Folklore had been trapped inside the Nevernever? She didn't. And it didn't really matter.

She was free now.

"Demons?" she asked, almost amused. "In such a peaceful looking forest." It was sarcasm, really. Forest or not, nature is by it's very nature, chaotic. She doubted there was true peace anywhere. The jump in the other's id called for her attention as she took up a spot nearby. Not too close, but not too far away either.

Her bony muzzle poked into the ground as she spoke. "I kid, of course. Though perhaps if I told you I hadn't seen or felt anything along the way here, would that make things easier for you? I do not feel anything now, either." Once more she cast a precarious glance toward the woodland. What would be considered a colorful landscape was only gray, black, and white to her disfigured eyesight. The only color coming from the pond's surface.

"Are you being hunted, then?" she inquired, cocking her head and giving the other a sidelong glance that held something of the mischievous manner. The idea of a scrap between a couple of small Ifrit-like demons came to mind, and mentally her smile grew wider. A part of her wondered what sort of demons this one spoke of.

He rubbed his cheek against her cheek again. "If he truly loved you," Bela said, "Then he would not have hurt you." The vampire looked her face over. "This 'want' you have in your heart will pass once you realize that he is not for you. You deserve a someone who loves you, not uses and abuses you. Like I said before, demons manipulate their prey into believing anything they want them to believe."

He sighed; it pained him to see someone hurt. Bela coiled himself around her comfortingly. "He is not worthy of your emotions."

"You will one day," Bela said reassuringly, "Sometimes it takes time. Love will find you."

At her question his eyes looked away from hers. "Once, but it was not a good love. When a human is turned into a vampire they acquire this intense feeling of love for the one who turned them called Fledgling's Love. It is powerful and hard to shake, and I felt that towards my "Mother." And other than the brotherly and fatherly love towards my sisters, that was the only time."