Frankly, it should be considered an insult to everybody else at Halen Academy that a human was admitted into the school's hallowed halls yet again. What was the point of their history lessons if mistakes were just being repeated? At least, that was what Clarence thought, and Clarence Devaughn was never wrong.

Even when he's wrong, he's still right. That was just how his world worked.

How irksome, Clarence thought in the middle of class and practically seethed where he stood by a lab table. His hand was over his mouth and nose, blocking what he could of the scent that swirled around him; your scent, the distinguishable delectable aroma that followed humans like you around, the same that vampires like Clarence instinctively noticed.

A weak, pathetic, silly human like you was distracting him. Clarence hated the mere thought of it alone, so he squashed it deep inside him until it manifested in another way. Berating you was better than admitting you affected him. Insulting you came more naturally. After all, he was better than you. That was a fact.

"Must you stand so closely?" Clarence complained, making a gesture with his hand as if he were shooing away a pesky insect. It wasn't like you could go very far, considering it was a joint alchemy table that you both had the misfortune of sharing. Irritated, he added, "And for Araxis' sake, do something about how you smell."