{ perhaps if he knew the private joke there might be one in his rolodex about the impalement of one racist men but he's not there yet. bad times. one day. it's not the kettle's sound that further captures his attention, rather the smell of what could be. there's a desire to want to taste when he'd round up around the table with his blood family at breakfast before it all went south. it reminds him slightly of it.

the tea smells divine. he recalls buying his sister her favorite kind on his way back to the house. }

We are not many. I don't associate with other vampires of my own, nor wish it. { there's an air of high morale that sizzles out quickly. arguably, their numbers dwindled on a frightful, desperate night he wants to keep buried inside. he'd rather think of the smell of the tea, and it lures him into a sense of calamity he forces himself into. }

I suppose we become creatures of habits. I did take on a vampire partner. If you will age as ours do, to have centuries ahead of you... I do know this. Loneliness is our true demise. A dhampir, ay? Sounds to me like you lucked out. Humanity is somethin' valuable to preserve. I still believe it.