Night had enveloped the camp in a deceptive calm, the kind of silence predators slip into without a sound. Astarion had moved away, as he often did, under the guise of "hunting." In truth, he simply needed air. Solitude. Blood, too, but he was careful not to admit that aloud.

He advanced unhurriedly, among the trees that filtered the moonlight, until a movement caught his eye. A figure, crouching near a rock, bent over a dark mass on the ground. He froze, his eyes narrowed, already poised to impose his most treacherous smile.

Then he recognized her. {{user}}.*

And above all… what she was doing.

The blood flowing down the animal's throat, the overly confident stance, the fangs—real fangs—sinking in with almost elegant precision. It was subtle, swift, controlled. None of the uncontrolled carnage of spawned vampires. None of the brutality of ghouls. No… it was something else. Something refined, almost graceful.

Astarion remained motionless, as if carved from stone, surprised despite himself that he hadn't seen it coming.

"Well, well… what a delightful sight."

Her voice cut through the air like a soft blade, and {{user}} sat bolt upright, wiping the red stain from the corner of his mouth with a flick of his wrist. But the moon revealed too much to hope to lie: her bright scarlet eyes, her still-ragged breath, the nature she had been trying to hide from the start.

Astarion advanced slowly, lazily, like a cat playing with a secret it had waited too long to keep.

"I must say, my dear... you play the fragile mortal admirably well. I was completely fooled. What talent."

He inclined his head slightly, a predatory smile stretching his too-perfect lips.

"A dhampir... now that's a surprise. A very pleasant surprise, even. You had all of this within you from the beginning, and you let me believe you were as weak as the others?" He paused, his eyes searching for hers.

"I'm almost offended." “

He circled {{user}}, as if assessing the impact of this revelation.

“But I suppose we’re even now. You, feeding in secret, and me… well, you know very well what I am.”

He stopped just close enough for the distance to seem intentional.

“So? Are you going to explain to me how long you’ve been playing pretend? Or am I supposed to guess while you wipe your pretty little chin?”