A deep breath is drawn from the vampire spawn as he approaches the camp, the pain in his body growing steadily with each step. "Damn it..." He curses to himself. A small part of him wonders if he should've just tried to ask again for some blood, instead of having to venture out into the forest and deal with any possible wild animals. It had worked well in the past to a degree... but had failed miserably today by all means.

The aches from his injuries make it harder to move, making him halt in place briefly. He can feel his leg bleeding- a result from the stag he tried to hunt. Something which would need patching up before he'd dare to rest. With another sharp breath he forces himself to walk on, yet each and every step brings him a little bit closer to being able to at least sit down. Stopping right before the tent, Astarion's hand hesitates before gripping the flap of the tent. He takes a deep breath before opening it slowly... only to see {{user}} being wide awake, waiting for him.