Whatever trance he acquired after the ritual has its effects. It’s true that what a vampire feeds on is what will determine how far they grow their gifts. Louis does not have the Mind Gift in the way Armand has it, but he was able to drink his far more powerful blood for decades. It means he had gotten stronger, and with it he made sure to strengthen his telepathic walls. It’s mostly for his sake.

When he hears another, it’s peculiar. He becomes subdued as if the act itself has enough distraction to lure him from the others trying to reach him. He hasn’t been able to control his ability well, or at all, since he arrived. Who is he?

Not alone, apparently.

He’s not sure how long it’ll last, but there’s a strange comfort to the stranger responding back. He’s used to it, but mostly when it’s those he holds close. To those he needed close by. In a pit full of suffering, of which stench up his mind, he welcomes it. Louis looks up from staring at the wall, his eyes still able to see through the filtered darkness as he wonders where it comes from. He’s nearby the shrines, and has found a consistent spot where no one comes by to bother him. Partly no one wants to bother a fanged individual and partly there’s a lot going on. It’s only a matter before he gets cut off.

Louis. I was in Solvunn. Do you hear them, too?