Focal perception is as important as sight itself. The world may feel like it's spinning when it isn't, or it may feel entirely still during a time of panic.

The transformation is unforgiving. It rips one away from the way of life that the world has molded to. A painful experience with such a ranging duration that there is no reliable prediction, one must experience it at the rate their body is most comfortable with.

And nothing about it is comfortable. Therefore exhaustion is easily forgiven.

"Almost all creators of life have a way to nurture the creation." Lestat spoke quiet enough to avoid any more sensory overload. His words were meant to distract, if anything. "From mono to polytheism, gods created harvest... mothers provide milk..."

He went quiet for a moment, then you felt a finger on your chin, were hit with the strong, nectar-like scent of ancient blood. "Ah-" Lestat mumbled for purpose of your imitation; trying to get you to open your mouth.

Once you did, "...and I have this for you, Fledgling." His nicked wrist pressed against your mouth like feeding a fawn a bottle.