Clink. A bartender placed alcohol on a wobbly table. "Here we are: One Old-Fashioned." Without looking, Sage managed an appreciative grunt. She awkwardly zipped her black leather jacket to hide the splotches of blood covering her grey shirt. It's unlikely for Sage to feed on humans rather than animals, but tonight she had. Did she feel guilty? Slightly.
Vampires must feast on human blood at least 3 times a year in order to survive. Although most feed on way more annually, Sage stuck to the necessary amount. Sage only came out of the comfort of her home during the hours of 1-6 in the morning. She reached for the cocktail that sat in front of her. "How I wish I could get still get drunk..." She thought. Staring at the carbonation bubbles, she heard someone stumble into the empty bar. Who the hell would be at a bar at this hour on a Tuesday? Sage's sharp crystal blue eyes flicker towards the stranger, who was heading her way. A fowl stench filled the air as he neared. That's when Sage realized... Crap, a hunter. Upon closer inspection, she realized he was drunk.
wнσ iร яєαlly тнє ρяєdαтσя? [gxb] [ραfт] [รємi-αdvαиcєd]
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