The old man strode calmly through the darkness, enveloped by shadows all around. Only his front was visible, lit up by the lantern he held in his left hand. The rusty ring stained his palms, turning them orange. He paid it no mind, but wrinkled his nose at the smell of metal.

His staff thumped on the dark dirt, a long, smooth pole of black wood, a bit gnarled at the top, but rounding out to a smooth cap. It came to a sort of round bulge at the top, extra hard and a little heavier.

He chuckled and sang nonsense in a tone deaf manner, singing of nothing relevant, just what was in his head at the moment. Overall it came to being more of a theatrical yelling than real singing. His voice quieted soon after, overcome by a coughing fit. The old man’s frail body was overcome in a big clench, expelling the air in his lungs.

He coughed for a couple moments, feeling something wet on his hand. Smelling it, he frowned. Darting a tongue at it, he tasted metal. Blood? He frowned, wiping it off on his grey, tattered robe. “No time for sickness. I have people to see!” He chuckled wheezily and walked on, staff thumping.

Cordelia grumbled unintelligibly, a frown pulling at the corners of her mouth as she patted along the trail. She was in a huffier mood than normal, which was saying a lot considering who she was. A scowl had worked its way onto her face but by now, she didn’t even remember what she had been angry about to begin with. The last thing she remembered was stomping off and her feet carrying her into Gloomwood.

She stopped in her trek after a few moments, placing her hands on her hips and arching her back, inhaling deeply to try and calm herself down. She couldn’t see the sky because of how thick the trees were, but it wasn’t like she needed to. Cordelia knew what the sky was – what was the point of even wanting to see it? Relaxing her stance, her left hand lifted up to run through her black hair, making it a bit messier in the process.

It was then that the rich scent of blood hit her nostrils and her eyes widened, her anger immediately melting away. Her lips curled into a sadistic smirk and she travelled in the direction of the scent, not taking very long to come upon the old man. Cordelia’s head tilted to the side as she looked at him, stiffening somewhat at the lantern in his hand. Her eyes scanned over him and she took a few menacing steps forward, her arms lifting to cross over her chest.

“Now what’s an old man like you doing in a place like this? It really isn’t safe, you know…” she mused, unable to hide the malice in her voice but not really feeling the need to either. Her eyes gleamed and she chuckled softly. “Look at you. Now this is what I call pathetic. Not even a fair game, really.” Cordelia sighed, a tad disappointed.

Obviously, she had yet to notice he was blind.

Cain’s head shot towards the voice, hearing the sadistic tone in her voice. Feed on him, would she? As if he would let that happen. He hurled the lantern into a tree, releasing a burst of bright flame. He took up his staff in both hands and used his other senses, smell and hearing mostly, to pinpoint the vampire’s location, taking a swing at her head.

“Hyaa!” He shouted in a low voice, bringing the staff back to his side as he looked around, forgetting who he was attacking. Letting it pass from his mind, Cain set the staff down, leaning on it, head turned to Cordelia’s location. “Why hello, there. Do you mind handing me that lantern, my dear? i can't see too well without it.” He said, having forgot he had just attempted to rap her head with the length of wood in his hand.

Cain hummed and pulled something from the pouch at his side, holding it to his mouth. Tongue running over it’s rough surface, he spat and tossed the rock away. “Grah, too sour.” He said disgustedly, rummaging around his pouch for another rock of the same size. It seemed the thing was full of nothing but rocks.

Her eyes widened as he threw the lantern. “Let’s not be rash, now,” she eased, yelping and taking tentative steps backward to get away from the flames. She bit her lip lightly, looking between the fire and the old man. It was then that she noticed the black cloth wrapped around his eyes, guilt hitting her right in the chest. She felt terrible for taunting a blind person, but the fact that he was attacking her made her just as angry.

“Damn it, old man! I didn’t even do anything!” She just barely ducked out of the way of the stick and her left hand flew to the dagger on her belt, unsure if she was going to need it or not. She hadn’t exactly expected an old man to be able to move so quickly and have that sort of strength. He had to be somewhere in his sixties, maybe seventies. No sane man of that age would be out here at that age, even if he was blind.

But it seemed he was hardly sane. “So one minute you attack me and then expect me to get your lantern? Hell no, get it yourself!” Cordelia didn’t care if he was blind or not, there was no way she was going near that thing. She had no reason to get herself burned for an old man who had just tried to kill her.

“Dear God… you realize those are rocks, right?” she asked, wrinkling her nose. “I know you humans are stupid, but rocks? Rocks?”

Cain frowned as she said he’d attacked her, having no particular recollection of any such event. “I did no such thing, young lady. You shouldn’t make up such lies.” He clicked his tongue. He muttered under his breath as he walked a few steps to the tree and grabbed his lantern from the ground, grumbling. “Bah, it’s broken. I hope you’re happy. Now I can’t see.” He muttered.

His mood brightened an instant later. “Rocks, perhaps. None of them taste quite right. Too salty or sour, too sweet. Can’t seem to find the right one—“ He broke off into another coughing fit, hand over his mouth. He fell to his knees, left hand over his mouth, right holding onto his staff.

A splatter of blood covered his orange palm, covering up the rust stain with red. He breathed with struggle, forgetting the woman was there for a moment. “Bah.” He said, coughing a little lighter now. “I think I’m sick.” He said, remembering Cordelia’s presence. He tried to get up to no avail.

“Be a kind young lady and help me up, would you? You should respect the elderly.” He said in a low, dramatic voice. He tried once more to pull himself to his feet but failed. “My time is drawing ever closer, as we all are.” He said with a sigh.

Cordelia’s face was blank for a moment. “You’re senile,” she stated, as if it weren’t obvious enough. “You tried to kill me! You shouldn’t throw fire if you expect help from me!” It seemed like he was going to be just like Eliel – hard to get through to, if only because he could remember nothing. She was struck with a feeling of uncertainty, not really knowing how to act around him. The last time she had felt like this had been when she had first met Manic, and that had been months ago… the only difference was that this old man didn’t seem malevolent. Violent, yes, but he didn’t seem to know how to direct that violence.

“You can’t see to begin with, old man. Denial helps nothing.” Cordelia looked at him sternly, knowing how it felt to be blind. Of course, him not having his whole mind and probably not even half was probably part of the reason. He fell to his knees them, coughing up blood. The rich, metallic smell made her insides twist, her eyes fixed on the liquid that was coming out of his mouth. It was obvious that he was sick, that his old age was probably getting to him, and that feeling on uncertainty only became stronger.

He confirmed her statement and she took careful steps toward him, leaning over him like a vulture as soon as she reached him. Her eyes scanned across his countenance and she ‘hmm’ed, tapping her right index finger lightly against her chin. Her narrowed into slits when he told her to respect him. “I’ll start respecting you when I damn well choose to,” she spat. “You need to atone for a few of your little mistakes, you old coot. Now I’m going to ask you something and I’ll ask but once, and you have ten seconds to make up your mind.”

With that Cordelia slid down, crouched in front of him, resting her elbows on her knees and folding her hands. “Your time can either be extended or brought sooner. Either you can live forever, senile as you are – although what I do may help that – as my little servant, or I can just kill you now and stop your suffering. And if you prove not to be useful I’ll probably kill you, but it’s an extension and that’s all that matters, right? Skip the petty details. Think carefully, old man…”

Cain turned his head to the vampire as she approached him, wary. She seemed angry with him, for reasons he did not know. Rather, he knew them and did not remember them as well as he should have if he’d been younger.

As she extended her offer, Cain frowned, forehead wrinkling deeply as he contemplated her offer. Yes, he could live forever, and likely be healed of his sickness, but as for everything else, there was little hope. He would remain blind, and his mind would not be healed. Perhaps a little more stable, but by no means repaired. The old man sighed.

Just to spite the angry girl, he waited exactly eleven seconds with a smug grin before providing her with his answer. “Yes.” He said, chuckling. Vampirism was a small price to pay for surviving. “Do it, girl. But realize you won’t hold as much over me as you think. Nobody can keep the wise and mighty Cain from his duties. Especially from that for which he must lick rocks to accomplish.” He smiled. It was a story for another time, she didn’t need to know quite yet of why he did it.

Cain began to sing again, quite tone deaf and horrible. It was pleasing to the ear of, say, a deafened, or perhaps dead, possum.

Cordelia kept time in her head, looking at Cain indignantly once ten seconds was up. She pushed herself halfway up when his answer came and stared down at him in disbelief. The way he treated her and acted toward her was something that would need fixing. “If you want respect, you’re going to have to respect me first,” she warned. “You’re talking to your sire, and I can take away your life just as easily as I can give it to you.” That part was a little bit of a lie, but hell, he was an old man; what the hell would know about vampirism at his age and why would he even care?

“And by the way? You’re hardly wise and mighty. Men who eat rocks and try to hit people on the head like a monkey are, well, for lack of a better word, crazy.” With that she went back to crouching down and removed her dagger from its sheath. There was no way she was going to sink her fangs into his skin, not when he was so old, and truth be told she didn’t care if that was vain or not. She was doing this man a favor that she didn’t have to. Cordelia took his hand within hers, holding him tightly by the bones in his wrist. She proceeded to slide the dagger along the blue vein, watching as the blood poured out from the slit of a wound. She lifted it to her mouth and began to drink it, draining it from the wound, able to taste his disease from the action. His blood probably wasn’t the healthiest she had ever drunk, but it would do to quench her thirst and to make this process move along. It wasn’t like the illness would affect her, anyway.

Feeling his pulse weaken, she pulled away and lifted her own wrist to her mouth, sinking her teeth into the flesh. Dark blood began to pour out, just barely tinted red but more on the side of dark maroon now. Cordelia lifted her wrist to his mouth, offering it to him.

“Death or undeath, Cain.”

The old man chuckled at her comment. “Give me something to respect and I shall.” He said with a smile. He was going to be difficult. This woman clearly hadn’t had a proper upbringing. Seemed like work for him to do. A bead of sweat ran down his brow, not from nervousness, but from the heat he felt. In all honesty, it wasn’t too warm here, but he preferred the cold.

Cain grimaced as she slit his wrist. “Ow.” He said simply, sounding like a child with a scraped knee. He felt his blood leaving, her drinking it. He began to grow lightheaded, hearing his staff hit the floor but not trying to let it go, as if he were falling asleep.

Cain sensed something in front of him. He reached out to it, cold fingers grasping the wrist in an iron, vice-like grip. He smelled blood on it. Assuming he was to drink it, Cain pulled it closer and licked it, then began drinking the blood. It seemed bitter at first, too metallic for his tastes. Gradually it became sweeter, like a wonderful drink. He broke away feeling slightly stronger, recovering from the blood loss.

Cain swayed in place as the blood began running through him. The cloth fell down, revealing two white orbs swiveling in their sockets, a pit where each pupil used to be. He shuddered once, then relaxed, wordless.

One hand drifted slowly to his pouch, rummaging through the rocks.

“There’s plenty to respect. You know, like the fact that I made you?” Cordelia scoffed. This was completely ridiculous… how did he not understand that? There were a lot of respectable qualities to her, but like everyone they just went ahead and judge by first impressions and refused to see how her bad traits were just as good as the better ones.

Cordelia allowed him to drink from her, scrutinizing each of his movements. After he had taken enough and let go, she pulled her arm away, the wound already beginning to knit itself back together. She glanced down at it for a moment before standing up, rotating her shoulders a single time, satisfied to hear the cracking sound.

Metal against metal sounded as she returned her dagger to its rightful home on her belt and she lifted her left hand to cup the side of her face, contemplating what to do with this one. “Get up,” she snapped finally when she saw him going through the rocks. “You have no need for the rocks anymore; you can’t eat them now anyway. Why the hell would you even eat them in the first place?”

Cain scoffed at her. “Utter and complete nonsense. I can still taste them all I like.” He said stubbornly, licking a pink rock which didn’t come from anywhere near them. This kind of rock was found far in the mountains, under much snow. He ran his tongue over the roof of his mouth, smelling the taste, and then tossed it to the side carelessly.

“Too spicy.” He said carelessly. He grabbed his staff, muttering once more to himself in a language he didn’t know. About midway through, his hands took on a pale blue hue and his staff started to become covered in ice. He didn’t notice it immediately, not realizing his mutterings were spells.

Cain sighed as he felt a weight leaving his chest, taking deeper breaths than he could before. He straightened his back a little and turned to the side, popping old bones. His face scrunched up as he did so, shaking it off. He shook his head, puffing out his bright hair a little and smiled with a youthful energy. “Bwahahaha. Haven’t felt like this in ages, girl.” He said with a smile, ignoring her previous comment. He attempted to let go of his staff, but found it had frozen itself both to his hand and had seized a place on a rock with icy roots.

“Oh my.” He said, breaking his hand away from the ice-covered staff. “How delightful! My walking stick shines!” he smiled, then looked somewhat sad as the ice began to melt away. “Oh well. Not everything lasts forever, as we do.” He giggled at his comment. “Now you can be graced by my presence for all of eternity, my dear.” He rubbed his belly.

There was no point in this. “Why must you argue?” she asked, her voice taking on a guttural tone. Cordelia looked away when he licked the rock, wondering if there was a way she could break that habit. There was always the option of ripping out his tongue, but it would grow back after some time, and she couldn’t very well rid the world of rocks. This was quite the conundrum indeed.

Because she was looking away, she missed the whole episode of his hand getting stuck to the staff. Frankly she was beginning to get sick of looking at him and almost wished she was blind again – almost being the key word, of course. “You’re either to call me sire or Cordelia, not ‘girl’ or ‘woman’ or what have you,” she said. “And a thank you would have sufficed.” It was then that she saw his hands had gotten stuck, covered in ice. Her left hand lifted to her mouth to stifle her laughter, but the cackle came pouring out from the depths of her throat. Oh, that was absolutely hilarious! Finally he got what he deserved.

“Maybe you’ll die from hypothermia,” she mused to herself. “Yes, do that again! Freeze yourself, ha.” Perhaps it was rude to save his life and then desperately want him dead, but she had no reason to care for him, really. The only thing that kept her tied to him was that her blood flowed in his veins. It really was a shame that cold wouldn’t affect him… the only thing that could hurt was heat, and Cordelia wasn’t about to go near any sort of fire or sunlight or anything of the sort.

Her face paled at the idea of being around him for all eternity. “Dear God… what have I done?” She looked heavenward before shaking her head. Unfortunately, she couldn’t go back and change her decision. “And who even said I would keep you around that long, hm? What if I kill you off or what if you kill yourself?”

Cain laughed at her comment, seeming to have made her angry. He smiled and spun around slowly, humming another tune of his. His staff began losing it’s hold on the rock and tipped over, meanwhile Cain’s foot caught in a protruding root and he tripped, hitting the ground.

The old man groaned and pulled his foot from the root. It hurt terribly and he made a quiet whimpering sound as he grabbed it and twisted it back into place. It gave a surge of pain, making him slightly nauseous, then faded away, repairing itself. Grunting, he spoke dumbfounded. “That was likely highly unnecessary.” He muttered to himself, getting up and dusting his hands off.

Cain scuttled around the area, finding his staff. Standing straight, he heard her speech about calling her Cordelia or sire. He simply scoffed. “Cordelia it is, but you’re rather high and mighty for someone so young, dear. You’ll never find a good man with that attitude.” He sniffed.

Feeble-looking hands had paled and taken on the slightest of blue tints, only visible if you were looking for it. His staff groaned under his grip as he squeezed, hand to his stomach. “Argh, I feel rather hungry. Got a bite to eat, dear?” He asked, tongue running over his teeth. As the hunger pangs hit him, his canines seemed to elongate and sharpen. “Neat.” He said curiously, mind running from topic to topic in the blink of an eye like a small child.

Cain began to hum again, causing Cordelia to wince. At first she had done her best to ignore it, but now it was beginning to become too much. She clenched her jaw, digging her nails into her palms to try and calm herself. To her relief the humming stopped and she made no effort to free him from where he tripped, figuring that it was his own fault. He was clumsy, it seemed, and that probably came from old age. Weak, too; she wasn’t sure if vampirism would be able to help him with that.

The old man finally seemed to be able to get to his feet. Her eyes swept across him again, noticing that he was a bit shorter than she. Unfortunately, considering he was blind, he wouldn’t be able to tell and she couldn’t very well use it for an intimidation factor. Cordelia was a tad disappointed, but her thoughts shifted at the mention of her being unable to get a man with the way she acted. In pure amusement her eyebrows lifted and she laughed, although she was uncertain of how she was supposed to respond to something like that.

“First of all, my love life is none of your concern,” she said, her laughter having now dwindled down to nothing. “Second, I’m not some love-starved little puppy who has to chase after men. I’d be completely content on my own.” Of course, she wasn’t on her own now – but she didn’t think it was necessary to make that public, especially to some old man. Granted he probably wouldn’t remember even if she did say anything, with how bad of a state his mind was in, but she didn’t want to take a chance. “And third… considering I’m immortal, I very well could be older than you. I don’t think it’s your place to question me. Are you truly so ungrateful that you’re going to act like a stubborn fool? You would be dead by now if it weren’t for me… I probably shouldn’t have intervened, hm.”

At his mention of being hungry, a faint smirk pulled at Cordelia’s lips. “Well then, come along. I doubt you’re going to find anything here… unless you’re interested in rats and the like.” Her nose wrinkled somewhat at the idea. “You’d best prove your worth soon, old man.” With that she took a few steps back in the direction of the town, looking over her shoulder to wait for him.

Cain turned his nose up at the vampire after her comment about his acting like a stubborn fool. “I’ve been nothing but kind, my dear. I haven’t hit you with my stick, have I? No. I’m changed, see?” He smiled at her, returning to his jolly self, laughing quietly. The old man murmured under his breath, a concentrated look on his face. His right hand cupped and snapped his wrist. His hand filled with water. With a grin and shifting his hand a little, he made a sort of spearhead shape. He returned to his unconscious muttering and dipped his staff into the water in his hand.

After a few seconds, with a pause in the muttering, frost once more slid up the wooden shaft and hit the water, freezing it completely solid. Lifting the spear, the ball of water came along with it, a crystalline ball on the end of his quarterstaff. With a pleased grin at his weapon, he turned to Cordelia.

“Very well then, m’dear.” He chuckled and stamped his staff on the bare earth. Frost flaked away, but the magically made club on the end remained as solid as before, a drop of water running from it much slower than normal. The bead of water froze, making it look like candle wax.

Cain smiled and hummed as he made his way onto the normal path, staying close to Cordelia. “Hohoho, I’m much more dangerous than I appear, good girl.” He smiled dangerously. A wicked grin took over his mouth, a grin of madness. There was something in that one, insane look that made the blind, frail man look like more than he was. As his empty left hand lifted a rock, a snakelike tongue ran over it’s smooth surface, shattering the dangerous feel in a heartbeat. He tossed it away carelessly, not even dignifying the taste with a response.

Cordelia’s upper lip lifted somewhat as the flesh around her nose wrinkled. “You did try to hit me with your stick, though! And set me on fire! I should break that thing for what you did!” she protested. It wasn’t worth it, but she could at least try. She didn’t know how to act around old people – the oldest people she knew still had their minds, for the most part, since they weren’t bound by mortal limits. “I still want an apology for that, jerk.”

Once he followed after her she looked away, a frown curling onto her face out of distaste. The only dangerous thing about him was that he was senile and had a pack of rocks – he could very well damage a mortal skull with a few of those if he threw them hard enough. That wasn’t something she had to worry about though and didn’t plan on it. “Well, then you prove it,” she said, looking to him for just a moment. It was the grin on his face that caused her head to cock to the side, for a moment wondering if he truly did have potential.

However, the moment he picked up that rock again the hope had dissipated. “Please, try your best not to slander my blood,” she grumbled, quickening her pace. Perhaps if she walked quickly enough he would be unable to follow, get lost out here, and no one would ever have to know that he was of her, that he belonged to her as her fledgling. “I don’t care what you do… but don’t make me look like a fool just because you’re one. They’re rocks. Oh, what the hell… why am I even trying?”

Cordelia shook her head, whipping a few rebellious locks away from her face to keep them from falling any further. “Why the hell were you out here in the first place, old man? Not the best place to die, I’d imagine. The animals would have gotten to you first if I hadn’t.” Like before she wrinkled her nose at the thought. Having ones flesh eaten didn’t seem entirely appetizing in the slightest.

Cain frowned at her. “Did I, now?” He thought about it for a moment and shrugged. “That’s all behind us now. I forgive you for what you’ve done.” He nodded and licked his lips. He looked at a rock in his hand, trying to remember how it appeared there. Shrugging, he tossed it to Cordelia, a rather large rock, about fist-sized.

Cain chuckled at her. “You think I should? Maybe. Perhaps I will. It all depends on how you behave. You’ve got quite a filthy mouth on you, and I think a bit of ice could fix it up in a snap.” He smiled, a handful of water running between his fingers as he spoke, the leftover wetness freezing on his hand. He clenched and unclenched it, chucking flakes of ice at Cordelia with a giggle.

Cain looked at her quizzically. “Why? Oh, the people here are so kind. They don’t yell at me, don’t curse me or call me names. A quiet lot.” He smiled, patting a tree. “Sometimes it’s even like nobody’s there.” He guffawed.

Cain cursed as he stumbled, stick catching in a hole. He grunted and swun it in an arc angrily, coming fairly close to the girl.

The only word that could possibly describe how she felt at his words was dumbfounded. Cordelia’s jaw dropped and she stared at him, unable to believe he was even pinning this on her. All she had done was come for a meal and wound up giving him a new life… and she was the one that needed forgiveness? A low growl emitted from her throat at just how absurd of an idea it truly was. “Watch yourself, you old coot,” she threatened. “I’ve done nothing wrong. My patience is wearing thin with you… I don’t care how senile you are, I’ll have no problem ripping you apart.” What had made him this way, anyway? Surely it couldn’t have entirely been attributed to old age, but then again, humans did have weak minds. Cordelia was just surprised his sight and mind hadn’t healed.

“My mouth? My mouth?” Cordelia’s left hand clenched into a fist and she drew in a shaky breath, trying to remind herself that he was, technically, her ‘child’ now. She couldn’t hurt a child, even if he was far older than she and the only child she truly had was Kaiden. “You’re the one who keeps insulting me! A bit of ice might fix me, whatever the hell that means, but tearing your tongue right out of that ugly hole you call a mouth will do just as fine. Try and lick your precious little rocks then.” Cordelia sneered, feeling rather proud of herself. Perhaps if she exerted her dominance over him enough he would get the hint.

She grumbled at the flakes he threw at her, lifting an arm and allowing her cloak to deflect it. “Wearing thin…” she repeated in a guttural tone, trying to get the message across. So far this evening that hadn’t worked, but there was no reason she couldn’t continue to try.

Cordelia remained silent at the mention of people until she got a twisted idea. “Well that of course would be because they’re dead,” she said, glancing to the trees. Maybe it was cruel, but the idea of seeing him react to that was all too entertaining to pass up.

Out of sheer luck she managed to dodge his stick – for the most part, at least. Part of it hooked onto her arm and she grunted, pulling herself loose. “If you don’t watch yourself, I will break your little twig!” she exclaimed, glaring down at him.

Cain placed a hand on his chest, looking straight ahead. “Senile? Dear me, how rude.” He chuckled at her, deciding he was nearing her edge. Judging from her rapid, angered breathing, he figured he’s riled her up quite a bit. Smiling in triumph, he waved off her threats. “It’ll grow back, Cord. Honestly. Trying a match of words with an ancient, half mad man? You disappoint me. Stooping so low.”

Just to make her angry, at her comment he pulled a rock out and tasted it with a smile on his face. An eyebrow shot up and he smacked his tongue against his gums, tasting it again. Shaking his head sadly, he tossed it. “Too fruity.”

When she told him the people were dead, he stopped for a second, then leaned close to a tree and sniffed it curiously. Shrugging, he gave her a helpless look. “and so am i. And you. But that doesn’t seem to staunch the steady, abundant flow of curses and threats, now does it?” He shook his head.

“If you don’t watch yourself, I will break your little twig!”

Cain waved a limp hand at her in simple acknowledgement. A wave of tiredness hit him, forcing him to sway and lean on his staff. “I grow weary, child.” He said with a yawn. Turning his ear this way and that, he stamped his staff down in several spots in front of him, beginning the trek home.

His trek was put on hold by a particularly stubborn tree, refusing to fall beneath his mighty shuffling. Cain frowned and went around the tree, humming tiredly. His old bones were refreshed with eternal youth, but arguing with the impossible woman had done wonders.

“A little assistance, dear?” He asked, stumbling about in his blindness.

((OoC: had to power play just a little tiny bit. would have asked but obviously you're not on and I wanted to get this post up. let me know if you want that edited.))

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Cordelia almost laughed; she could have stooped much lower than she already had. Really, if it weren’t for the fact that he was blind she either would have killed him or let his sickness take him. Usually she had no problem dealing with people who were difficult, but the problem here was that he wasn’t even violent. If he had at least intentionally hit her or something, anything, then she would have had no problem dealing with him accordingly.

By now she was slowly becoming accustomed to his constant licking of rocks and was able to ignore the comment, however much she wanted to just throw one at his head. “I wonder…” she mused to herself, lifting an index finger to her chin and tapping lightly. She could always try it; throwing something at his head could either make things much worse than they already were or maybe reconnect something in that tiny head of his that had been detached. It wasn’t even something she wanted to do for him, but just to keep herself from going off the edge.

“and so am i. And you. But that doesn’t seem to staunch the steady, abundant flow of curses and threats, now does it?”

“Oh, please,” Cordelia said, rolling her eyes and taking a moment to look back at him. “Technically, we aren’t dead. Don’t give me that bull.” Not dead, but certainly not living or anything that could be considered truly human. There was a sort of freedom in knowing that, but she wasn’t sure if he could really comprehend that. “If you were really dead, you wouldn’t be here to annoy the hell out of me.” Cordelia sighed in slight exasperation. “I’m too nice for my own damned good….”

She stood back and watched as he struggled around the tree, cocking her head to the side. There was a part of her that felt bad for not helping, since after all, he couldn’t even see. There had been no one to help her though when she had been blind, but that had been partly because of the fact that she hadn’t wanted anyone’s help. He seemed to want her aid, however, and she sighed once again, knowing her decision was inevitable.

Cordelia took his arm with a single hand, not quite remembering that he should have been handled with care. Roughly she dragged him around the roots of the tree and out of its way, not bothering to even look at him. As much as she cursed herself for helping him, she knew that she had to, if only for what little conscience she had.

“I’m not always going to be around to help you, old man,” she said. “Honestly, for someone of your age I’d think you would know how to handle blindness by now.” The words were a bit harsher than she had intended, but there was no changing them now. “How’d you go blind, anyway?” Personal question, but she felt the need to know anyway. Cordelia didn’t always understand that people had things they might have wanted to keep private.

Cain felt her take his arm, following silently without so much as a mutter. He placed his right hand on hers as he struggled to keep up, making sure she wouldn’t slip away. His hands were cold, a bit chilling. The old man licked his lips, thinking.

Her question surprised him a little, he hadn’t been asked in years, and even then he’d only been there a small time. He lowered his face for a second, not really embarrassed by his answer. “Born blind in the mountains. But people have described it to me. It sounds wonderful…” He slowed, but kept a firm grip. The old man looked to the sky.

Cain was silent a moment before a darker, more serious tone entered his voice, much more serious than he’d been since meeting her. He spoke like a man who believed in what he said. “In fact, a man promised me he could bestow me with sight if I could find the… something.” He said, looking to the side. His hand drifted to his pouch unconsciously.

His mood changed instantly, back to his cheery, giggly, stick-swinging self. “Bwahahaha! I wonder I wonder… it should be interesting, being a vampire.” He waggled his fingers idly, water dribbling from his bare hand idly.

The temperature of his skin hardly concerned her. Cordelia’s skin was quite the same, if not colder, due to her undead nature. Cold skin was the normal for her; anything above it was warm, something to be worried about, and anything below just didn’t hit her as anything to be concerned over. His hand atop hers made her a bit uneasy, but she brushed it aside, for the time being at least. Had she done the wrong thing, turning him at such a fragile age and bodily state…?

Luckily he answered her, cutting off any time she had to think about that question. Philosophy had never been her forte anyway, considering her views were quite skewed anyway. His words took her by surprise and she examined him again, turning her head to sweep her eyes across his countenance. Born blind… so he had never seen the world, not even once? Out of inward confliction Cordelia looked away, still helping him along. Part of her wanted to laugh at his misfortune, but another part told her to be patient with him for what he had lost, and a small part somewhere between the two wished she had never asked in the first place.

“Poor you,” she said, her tone flat. They were the only two words she could think of that he could take either way. Cordelia didn’t want to show pity, but at the same time, it would be incredibly insensitive to brush off such a tragedy. For a moment she had to wonder what it had been like growing up blind, being sightless at such a young age and being stripped of naïveté so soon. “You’re making that up, right?” She knew he wasn’t, but she could pretend she didn’t believe him, at least for now.

“I don’t think anyone will be able to fix your sight if I couldn’t,” she said, being a bit harsher now. Vampirism had even healed her son; how could it not heal this old man? “Unless they were a god, but from what I know the gods have left us. Whatever it was you had to find is probably not worth it and you should give up. Try to find another way or just live with the fact you’ll be sightless for… well, forever.”

Cain’s mood seemed to change instantly, causing Cordelia to click her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Well, obviously,” she began. “Considering I doubt you really lived before… so now you have your chance, hm?” Oh, darn, that had come out nicer than she had wanted. “Just realize I won’t kill anyone for you. You’re going to have to do it on your own… but that shouldn’t be a problem. You’ll be able to hear them easily enough, feel their heart in your head, smell their fear. Just have to follow that.”

Cordelia shrugged and softened her grip on him just a bit, realizing she was talking a bit too much from experience than she would have liked but unable to take the words back.

Cain gave her a smile, a few spots where teeth were missing. “Nope, I do not lie, my girl.” He smiled at her feebly. When she said something about giving up, he removed a hand from hers and seized the pouch at his waist. “I cannot do that. I’ll leave you to your hopes, you leave me to mine. Deal?” He said with a giggle.

Cain listened to her tone soften, se was being kinder than before. His eyebrow cocked, becoming visible from beneath the blindfold. She held some sympathy for his blindness in particular, where age and senility did not. Old as he was, Cain was not stupid. He could piece together much from simple hints. Perhaps she had dealings with such a crippling attribute, perhaps herself or another.

From her words, he could tell she knew exactly what she was talking about, telling him on the spot. She’d been a vampire for a while now, having gotten used to it. She was softening, and with that he could begin to set his roots, probe deeper into her person, better understand the woman that was Cordelia.

“A lot of slop, that.” He said bluntly. “You hold no faith in me. It saddens me.” He said with a sigh. “Some must die so others may live, such is life. Or death? Bah, it’s all the same. We move, do we not? Even though our bodies are lifeless, unmoving as that stone. But what carries us? Holds our thoughts? We are children of magic, feeding on the lifeblood of others to retain our individuality. Upon death, do we join others? If I die now, would I in a small way become you?” He spoke to nothing in particular, but his words indicated Cordelia. Perhaps he was rambling again. With a shiver, he shook his head. “God, I hope not. Would sicken me, that.” He chuckled.

Cain heard something in the bushed scurry. He threw out a stream of water, little threads of water freezing into a cage, connected to his hand by the continuous flow of water. Cain chuckled and leaned closer, sniffing. He heard squealings, but couldn’t identify the squirrel for what it was. “I can’t tell. Could you identify our attacker?” He asked curiously, poking his staff at it.

Relief spread through her when he took his hand away from hers. Cordelia’s hand lowered away from his arm, figuring that he no longer wanted or needed help. It wasn’t something she was about to force upon him, since she had managed just fine on her one when she had been blind. “Even if those dreams are trivial, might lead to absolutely no where?” she asked, her eyebrows lifting.

The moment he opened his mouth to speak again her brows furrowed, a perplexed frown crossing her lips. His words didn’t make sense… at least not with the way that he spoke them. How did he expect her to know any of that? Growling softly, Cordelia turned her head away, not quite sure as to how she was meant to respond. His words were beginning to sink in, just enough for her to be able to scratch at their surface. She was too young and too dense to comprehend anymore than that.

“Hell if I know what happens when we die,” she said, turning back to him. “All I know is you’ll crumble into a pile of ashes, much like I would. Personally I don’t think what carries us, what keeps us going, matters. We’re not living, we’re not dead, and we’re a hell of a lot superior than other races that call this plane home. You should relish in that, not try to pick it apart like it’s something you never asked for, because you definitely did. So either shut up and deal with it or…”

Out of exasperation, both with him and with herself, Cordelia lifted a hand to her head, pressing her index and middle fingers into her temple. “Actually, there is no or. Just shut up, old man. There’s no point.” The vampire lady sighed, shaking her head to try to forget everything he had said. The sooner she did so the better off she would be.

Cordelia had been about ready to keep walking and ignore his actions when he asked her to point out what he had caught. Deciding to humor him, she took a few steps in front of him and turned to face him fully, her hands moving to rest at her hips. “Nothing that should catch your interest,” she responded curtly. “It’s a squirrel, Cain. Really, what did you think; that it was going to leap out and eat you alive? Honestly.” She wrinkled her nose at the animal in the cage before giving the same look to Cain, even though he wouldn’t be able to see it.

Cain chuckled at Cordelia as she couldn’t understand his meaning fully. True, it would take a time for her to fully understand, but at least she could get at his basic comment. “So we turn to ash, the result of our deaths after our bodies are no longer fit to maintain the level of magic needed to survive, body reduced to it’s current state of decomposition.” He giggled.

As she spoke, his hand reached for the pouch of rocks at his side, pulling forth two new ones, a grey one and a black river rock. He made to lick them, then stopped, thinking. He withdrew his tongue and tossed them into the bushes. As he did so, he shuddered a little.

Cain switched back to his muttering, ear turned to the ice cage. Cordelia’s humoring tone made him frown, a wrinkled old hand shaking as it reached for the squirrel. In a flash, his hand broke through the cage and seized the small rodent, hands turning blue and the squirrel shuddered, frost covering its fur. It squealed in pain and struggled in his iron grip, seeming to scream as its blood froze in its veins. Its body temperature lowered to a deadly point, ending its small life.

Cain pressed his fingernails into the rodent’s hide, releasing a cool poof of air and revealing chilled innards, heart frozen mid-beat. Cain chuckled and snapped his wrist, flinging the thing into a tree with a squeal of delight. Humming, he frowned at Cordelia, tune not at all matching his frown.

“It may have. Are we going to go feed or no? I’m a hungry old man, you shouldn’t keep me waiting.”