First Sight...
#1 of Woods
The smell of mossy woods, especially on a chilly evening. It's what makes this place my home. I love the cool dampness and how my fur feels when it wards the chill away, I guess I like being warm in the cold. The moonlight always highlights the fog in a magical way, like right behind the trees will be a mystery. The smell, oh the smell of dirt, trees and the river water, it culminates into a scent that brings me to tears if I think too much about it. I live here, but I couldn't imagine more comforting smells.
I have a great sense of smell, I remember the way certain rocks smell when they are wet and when they are dry. I enjoy my life here, so why wouldn't enjoy every single smell that is in my woods.
The deer, the birds, all the plants and my stranger...
Male, old and strong. I can smell that about him. He is on the other side of the woods and I only dare go there when I feel strong and brave enough, because when I go there, I get weak, like it would kill me to take a deep breath, like sucking in enough air would make him vanish.
The first night I saw him, oh, I couldn't believe anyone would trespass here. I wanted to rip this newcomers throat out and piss in his mouth, so that he would drown! I don't know that I would do that, but I was angry. I started to run hard to the other side, over the river and to where the hollow tree trunk made a bridge. I was snarling as I jumped over ferns and stumps, it took me a while and all that breathing probably was for the better. Imagine if I had acted rashly?
It was a clearing that the deer passed through once a week to feed. Lots of seeds and young plants that they find so sweet, there he was. Yeah, that's what I remember thinking, Prey. But I took another sniff, not prey, but nemesis! A vampire! of all the scum to sully my home, with its curling mist and sweet smells! He would bring death and rot here. I killed to feed, but at least I don't leave a corpse about to bring a miasma of pestilence! I was silent, vampire's are keen in all their senses, but a werewolf is the superlative hunter. I hunt that which hunts all other things. I know this forest so well, I didn't even rustle the leaves on the floor.
He wasn't tall, not lean either. I was about to rethink that he was a vampire at all, but my nose doesn't lie and the way he sucked the darkness around him like an aura ended any doubt. He was stocky, in fact he was rather short, wide shoulders though, even more so then all the skinny vampires that I've seen. He was shaped, different is all I could think about for a moment. Then I also had to shake myself out of a trance, I narrowed my eyes, oh how he made my lips curl!
His skin, it was rougher then the soft noble princes that I ripped the heads off shoulders of, It was also a tinge more yellow, not like the white of the moon. He had stubble on his face, like a human who hadn't shaved in a day or two, even the flair under his lip wasn't trimmed into a perfect triangle, he deviated from the vampiric template, cut from much harder stuff it seemed. His hair, not neat or slicked back or even black like I had seen before. It was messy the ends curled a bit, a dark auburn that matched the bark of the fireproof giants that made the roof of the forest. But I wasn't about to respect him because he hadn't shaved. I was just being distracted because, he was unique.
He wore no silk vest with a gold chain and vest, it was old canvas, all of it. Pants, shirt and long coat, just like a highwayman, maybe it's true that vampires alter your vision to something more appealing, but then why didn't he look as if he had been gored to death?
I was watching from a raised hill opposite of him, between us the path where the deer came through, and I suppose we both heard the hooves stepping softly on wet leaves. He crouched down and his already sharp fangs grew a bit more, he made a sound as if it ached him to get ready to feed. His pupils dilated quickly, turning his iris black and they might have been pure black marbles if I hadn't seen the whites of his eye's turn red, blood red, yet, it was rage coloring his eyes, not swelling vessels. His neck arched and if he had had the warmth of life, vapors would have misted from his mouth that gaped open. Tendons, muscles and sallow skin tensed over his frame, seconds before the deer came into view. And in just a second, he appeared possessed of a demon, nostrils flaring and fangs dripping with the saliva of anticipation.
A buck and a doe at first, they must met earlier in the day and taken a break from their mating. Together, they where there though. And like that the vampire was on his chosen victim, the buck, feet kicking wildly and he sank his fangs into its warm neck before the doe had even turned around to run.
The blood was hot and I could smell the head escaping into the cool air. I watched the fanged beast feed, he would be most vulnerable as soon as he continued and stopped looking about. He drank greedily. The flow from the neck slowed and before it stopped all together he plunged a hand through the chest and broke open the ribs like he was opening a door. He held the heart softly before he tore into the juicy morsel. If I hadn't hesitated, I might never believe what happened next was possible. The vampire took his claws like knives and began to skin the buck. He worked with great dexterity and quickly. It wasn't more then a few minutes that the buck's body was naked of it's skin.
He licked the freshly skinned pelt and he made a high graceful jump strait up to hang it on a branch. He snapped the antlers from the head and tossed the buck over his shoulder. He was breathing heavily, predators usually did after a kill. His eyes were returning to normal, I could tell even in the dark and from the distance. He stood strait and looked around, the only sound was the river running 20 yards to the south. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes and savoring the scent. He didn't steal it, but I wouldn't let him leave with any more then he already had from my forest. Something stopped me though, I can't say what, it was so subtle I still have no idea what it could have been. I don't fear the light and if anything it was the perfect time, but dawn was almost here, I just turned away. I started strait for the den at my own pace, my skin puckering under my fur as a breeze went by. The mouth of my den so warm. I hadn't been particularly active that night, but sleep suddenly called to me. Why fight something so inviting?
My last thought was that I should have finished the vampire off, that was a warm thought as well and the one that finally put me to sleep.