Henry’s grip on his staff tightened as he watched the vampire - dhampir what the hell was a dhampir - slowly stalking towards him, licking her lips and fangs. He swallowed, his throat now rather dry. Behind him, the fiddler came up hear sounds, and grunts, but his attention was well and truly locked on the ‘young?’ woman moving into his space. The young man was feeling a bit hot under the collar as those intense eyes never wavered from his.

“Ri-right. And I would hope th-that feeding on me instead of the louts means you are less likely to kill.” Why in the name of the Thaynes wasn't he running? Why did he kind of, not want to run? This was a blood-sucking vampire. A legitimate, “They'll be dead when I'm done” vampire. And the idiots, now three quarters brain damaged if they hadn't been already, had tried raping this woman. If Henry had any lick of sense he would have left the fools to their fates. But no, he just had to try to help everyone, even those who probably didn't deserve it.

She was only a foot from the fiddler now, her well manicured hand stretched outward. “You’re offering yourself to me,” a coy grin curved her crimson lips upward. Henry swallowed, his throat very dry. Why the hell did it sound like she was asking a lot more than just blood? Or - claiming it, since that had not been a question.

“I - suppose I am? I doubt a lean, wiry fiddler like myself is going to be really satisfying to feed on, but I - suppose you can take what you want?” Just what was behind those eyes, what intent was driving her? Because it did not look like just simple hunger at this point. He risked a quick glance over his shoulder - the unfortunate bandits were gone, likely the sound he had heard before. When he turned his head back - the woman was now inside of his arm length, his staff behind her, so that she was just barely not touching him as his arm hung in the air above her shoulder. He hadn't heard her move.

His eyes went wide. Every breath was nearly brushing their clothes together as her chest rose and fell. Henry let out a strangled, odd noise, but when he started to stumble backwards - he tripped over his own feet. And his staff, which had been behind the vampire, slammed into her back as he fell, bringing them both tumbling to the ground. Reacting on instinct from years of catching other kids who fell from trees Henry’s arm snaked around her torso, cradling her as they hit the ground.

Her hair fell around the two acting like a curtain. Her face hovered over his own, if it weren’t for her ample breast pressed to his chest he would have been able to feel her racing heart. He watched the tip of her tongue roll over her fangs once more. “So much for being gentle,” she purred close to his ear, her breath fanned across his face.

“I - I fell! Are - you OK?” His voice came out in a stammer as he tried to reorient himself and make sure neither of them had been injured. Henry was also trying very hard to ignore her being on top of him or the way her breath sent warm shivers down his spine. He let his staff roll down off of her back and from his hand, and tried to sit up.

A hand pushed him back down as she leaned closer to his ear, her soft lips barely grazing his lobe. “I can smell the sweet scent of nervousness and lust on you.” He could feel her fangs brush against his neck, her warm breath fanned across the crook of his neck. Henry swallowed nervously.

“La-lass, let's talk about this, right? I-oh dear.” The fiddler had no idea what to say, actually. He had offered himself as a meal to get the other men away, and they were well and safely away. He doubted he was strong enough to get up, either - when she had pushed him back down he had tried to resist, but hadn't been able to. And he'd let his staff go so it wasn't like he could try to use it as leverage. Finally, he spoke. “It.. Won't hurt too much, will it?”