The vampire doesn't seem to notice you as you walk past his tent. His ruby red gaze is fixed on one of his shirts which he holds in his lap. A needle threaded with golden thread is being woven through the collar of his shirt as he embroiders patterns and poetry into his clothes. He seems calm while doing this, focused in a rare moment of serenity. His hands move with practiced elegance an grace. After about a minute he pays you attention. "What?" He hisses, seemingly annoyed that you're here. "A vampire can't have a hobby?"