A Sanguine Start (Solo)

[Nevin]

Unlike most hunters at this point, Nevin did not cut the his crossbow bolt from the chest of the rabbit. For his purposes, the fact that the bolt was essentially plugging the hole and keeping the blood from flowing out and into the ground was actually a very good thing. He carefully adjust the rabbit so it was on its back - ignoring the way the light was still fading from its brown eyes - and uncorked the glass vial he had pulled out.

This close to the blood seeing some staining the bolt, he was already feeling the eager thrum running across his skin as the markings came to life. Very faintly, almost impossible to see in the bright morning light and through the long sleeves, a crimson glow began to shine from Nevin’s body. He took a deep breath and bit back a sigh, before stretching one hand forward, the dagger with in it driving point first into the side of the rabbit’s neck.

The finely honed iron sliced in a circle, carving a chunk out of the side of the throat, and bright crimson blood began to seep out, wetting the fur beneath the cut circle in a spreading red stain. The magic within Nevin was singing to him now, begging to be used - and he granted that inborn desire, reaching out and pressing the opening of the vial beneath the hole he had cut.

"Sanguine Vitae." The words, barely audible, slipped from his lips as Nevin focused upon the glass vial slowly catching the blood. Or, more precisely, his dark eyes were completely intent upon the blood flowing into the vial. More and more seemed to spill from the wound, all of it flowing into the small vial - more than should have fit inside. The blood was glowing, the same soft crimson hue that was trapped beneath Nevin’s clothing.

Nevin had his attention wholly focused on the process. Firmly held in his mind was the impression of life, vitality that the rabbit had held mere moments before. His magic mirrored that, condensing and focusing the blood inside of the vial. Now the life-giving fluid was almost being pulled from the carcass, gushing and trickling forth long after it should have stopped flowing so much.

Finally the flow stopped - and a careful observer would not that no more blood was leaking from either wound on the rabbit - nor was there any staining the fur beneath the cut on its neck. The only blood remaining outside of the glass vial was that which was already on the ground, or was on the wood of the crossbow bolt.

Nevin carefully put the stopper back into the glass vial, closing it off, and pulled out the small wooden box that carried the vials in safety. The now red-filled vial was tucked inside, and the blood mage pulled an empty one out, placing it in the pouch he had drawn the other one out of earlier. The box went back into his travel bag, and now he finally cut the bolt free, before studying the rabbit carcass for a moment, trying to decide what to do with it.

A small yip from one side made him turn his gaze - the rabbit he had seen earlier was staring at him, and now, closer, he could see that the poor animal looked a bit thin - hungry, he supposed. He shrugged, the motion rippling his cloak, and tossed the rabbit towards the fox. It landed on the ground with a meaty thunk, and the fox stared at it suspiciously for a moment before snatching it and disappearing into the brush.

”Well. My magic is still active.” He didn't know whether to be disappointed, or excited about that. Now he knew he could still make healing potions from blood - he'd have to mix the vital fluid with some herbs to mask the taste - but could he gain the essence of anything else? He stowed the bloody quarrel into his quiver and resumed his hunt.