Arlo James

See what it's like to be a vulture's lunch

In all the years he'd been alive or....dead....or whatever it was vampires technically were Arlo had hardly ever considered that a coven of vampires like himself might actually exist. As far as he was concerned he and Patrick had been the only ones and then, after Patrick's death, he himself had been left alone like the proverbial torch bearer for their already dwindling sub-species. A task he hadn't exactly taken on with gusto. Although really, could he be blamed for that? Other vampires weren't exactly thrilled about his existence in the first place. He'd spent that vast majority of his afterlife running away from his very food source. The vast majority of vampires, he'd decided, had some sort of revenge based problem that involved them becoming hell-bent on his destruction once that sedative his venom created wore off. He hadn't meant to be so excitable about that prospect of finding others like himself and yet the idea of someone like him was....more then he supposed he'd ever hoped for. Patricks death having cut all the deeper if only because of all he had lost when his Maker had died. His own blue eyes resting firmly on Malek then. He seemed trustworthy, at least, he had a sort of....genuine air about him and yet that hesitation that came with simple wariness existed for the younger vampire still as one hand lifted to run through his dark hair contemplatively.

"Well, yeah I want you to take me there. This whole desert business worries me though I mean, Christ, it's a desert how the hell are we supposed to stay out of the sun in the day?"

Unless his species had magical sun-walking abilities (which he doubted rather a lot considering his own early attempts at overcoming that) Arlo hardly saw any way they'd manage to live out there. Did they have caves or something? How had Malek found it to begin with? How far was South America from here? He never had been good at geography. Was he somehow....related to these vampires- had Patrick's own Maker come from them? Arlo's features frowned slightly then in that contemplation. Hell, maybe he had more questions then he'd realised. Malek assuring him he could answer them, or at least, some of them. The very why they existed seemingly elusive to Malek too. Arlo glancing up to the elder vampire once more.

"What were they eating out there? I mean, sure they could feed off each other but I don't imagine they could do that forever. That same blood would just keep being recycled. One of them in the least would have to have fresh blood in his system from an outside vampire who was feeding off humans. Did they leave the desert to hunt? Did you let them feed off you?"

The very how of it, for now, seeming to have perplexed the younger vampire. Arlo's nose scrunching slightly in a clear quirk of sorts that came with thought before the sudden scent of blood seemed to derail another other thought or question he might have had. That scent entirely...polarizing. His attention seized by it so readily and suddenly that anything else hardly mattered anymore. Arlo perhaps betraying his relative youth in that moment with how easily it seemed to captivate him, this dark pupils dilating into something almost predatory as Malek seemed to offer an almost encouraging smile. As if it was alright. As if he didn't mind. Willing victims so few and far between that Arlo hardly knew how to, well, approach the situation and yet he hardly had the time to consider it. His body near moving on autopilot in a desperate bid to meet that hunger the blood had all but reminded him he felt. His hand reached easily for Malek's arms, his fingers grasping it gently but firmly- Arlo having no desire to let Malek pull his arm away quite as readily as he lifted those pre-made wounds to his lips. The younger vampire careful, for now, to prevent his own fangs puncturing further into Malek's skin and injecting that blissful sedative. There was no need after all, not when that blood was being offered so readily. How good it was!

He could hardly help that soft sound of appreciation that rose within his throat at the taste. Arlo drawing in mouthful after mouthful of that rich red liquid. The vampire almost oblivious to the hand resting on his shoulder. His focus single-minded now. The rest of the world ceasing to exist- at least until he felt that pressure on his shoulder. Malek's voice holding a note of authority it had lacked until that moment. That command seeming to attract Arlo's attention. The younger vampire a more....submissive being by simple nature. That feeding paused and yet his hands still held Malek's arm, those bright blue eyes flicking sideways to meet Malek's own. He really....should stop. The other vampire had been good enough to offer himself right? It was probably better not to burn this bridge and yet....god it was good- and he was still hungry. A few more mouthfuls couldn't hurt right? Arlo sure to berate himself later for that very train of thought. That dangerous train of thought that seemed to afflict so many younger vampires still struggling with the basis of control. He had control....roughly seventy percent of the time, that was better than nothing right? He'd done well to learn that all on his own did it matter if just once he took maybe a little more? He'd hate himself for it later, for not stopping and yet here and now that choice seemed distinctly hard to make. Arlo apparently content to....test the boundaries of that authority within the other man just a little.

His hands gripped Malek's arm a little tighter, the beginnings of a near warning growl rising slightly within his throat in that first display of something a little....temperamental. Arlo's thoughts so clearly not entirely within his control in that moment as he simply returned to feeding from the other man still. Arlo not quite ready yet to give up that meal. His fangs, for now, at least remaining out of Malek's skin.