♚ Beaten soldiers ♚ — Leon || Fenris

It was a mere nightly saunter to the immortal. Searching for prey in the dark allies of Seoul, the city where he had lived for the last thirteen years, and by now, he knew it like the back of his own hand. Every breach and every single little quirk. Though, in the past five years, getting around unnoticed had become a lot harder than before. Sure, there had always been people around but not at this extent. This of course, led to Leon staying in the shadows, walking as close to the brick wall as he could manage as the street lights castes shadows upon the pallor of his features. His orbs gleamed with golden, discarding his contacts since earlier, knowing they complicated his hunting, he was at a disadvantage of course, luckily his fringe had grown a bit too long, hiding most of his eyes behind red strands. He was painfully aware of the burning within his throat, injured still since his recent encounter with another supernatural being, wounds and cracked bones refusing to heal properly for an unknown reason, causing the vampire a lot of frustration and obviously so. Already weakened by the knees, he stopped for a split second, only to regain what little balance he could manage to keep. By ow he was quite sure his skull had been cracked and it had to be what caused the reoccurring feeling of nausea, creeping up on him whenever it saw fit, only in the most inadequate situations. Such as this one. He hadn’t felt nauseous in centuries, and the mere feeling itself had him astonished.

The intensity was remarkable when it struck, vision deciding into multiple parts as he began to stagger, body swaying as he continued to push forward, determined to get his dose of hemoglobin he needed to survive, as well as to be able to heal properly. The pads of his digits dragged along the brick wall rather harshly, tearing at the skin until small crimson beads began to collect by the breaches and he retrieved it, losing his source of support and almost immediately having to stop for at least a tenth time. This wasn’t working and he was well aware of it, but there was no way he’d give in. No way he’d let… No. He discarded the thought immediately, to occupied with his own mind to notice the male sitting with his back rested against the wall, almost stumbling on his slender legs. He managed to brace the fall, straining each and every muscle within his weakened body, eyes wide open and on clear display as he turned his head to look at the being. In the dimmed light he didn’t look all too well, causing Leon to sniff the air, wrinkling his nose at the strong stench of alcohol enclosing the area, concluding that the male had most likely ingested a lot of it.

But there was something else as well, the sweetness of it causing his senses to tingle, muscles stiffening a second later when his instincts began to give away a heap of signals. Blood. Leon tried his hardest to suppress his desires, and instead try to find the source. The darkness didn’t bother him all too much, but in the condition he was, focusing wasn’t exactly easy, causing a headache and leading to him struggling to even stand straight. He braced himself against the wall once again, digits stinging from the sudden contact. He drew a few heavy breaths, filling his burning lungs with air, eyes flashing with color as he inhaled the blood clouded air over and over again. I have to get rid of the smell. He thought to himself, shifting his position to let his shoulder rest against the chilled bricks, looking for his battered package of cigarettes.

Upon finding the mentioned item he pulled it out of his pocket with a quick motion, fidgeting for a moment, hands shaking as he brought one of the sticks to his lips, keeping It firmly in between soft tires as he torched the container back down into his pocket, grasping for the lighter in the other one, soon igniting the cylinder shaped object. It only took a second for his nerves to be soothed, the area slowly filling with the scent of smoke instead of blood, providing him with an opportunity to think properly. Partially. Concluding that standing was craving too much effort, he leaned his back against the wall and slid down it in one slow motion, fabric of his jacket scraping against the rough surface. “What happened to you, little creature?” He then inquired, out of mere curiosity, genuinely interested in what had brought the male so sit at such a place at such a late hour.