Not all those who wander
Edmond paced the floors of his quarters. The space was cramped with various furniture, but he mostly used it to brood so it didn't bother him as much. His right arm was crossed across his chest whilst he left stiffly sat upon it, carrying the weight of his head. Dawn was fast approaching and he hated being in the light. It brought about a sensation that was bearable for no more than an hour. Ally once told him that tolerance came with age. If it was one thing he was thankful for in this God forsaken land it was Allicyte. Through the years, Edmond had roamed the streets of England alone. He had met his kind through his ventures, but none were ever accepting of a fledgling. In one such encounter, he found himself vastly outnumbered and was forced to flee. Days turned to months and months turned to years. Before he knew it, the century had turned and he was determined to change his 'life.'
He shook his head clear and dropped his arms, trying to remove the nostalgia hanging in the air. In frustration, he walked to the door, tore it open and headed down the hall. He didn't see anyone whilst he made his way to the kitchen. Loudly, his stomach rumbled, forcing him to look in the fridge for a fresh supply of blood. Inside the ice box were various bags of thick red liquid meant to only quench the thirst of a vampire. They were arranged by types: A-, A+, B-, B+, AB-, AB+, O-, O+ and then by falvours: man, woman, rich, poor, and many more. Lazily, Edmond reached over to O-, grabbing none in particular. Tearing the top open, he pressed the hole to his lips and began to drink.
are lost..