Walking through his village, the stone heart of Yohio was warmed by the frightened glances of his subjects. In the evening, he was really looking for someone whose blood to drink, until his gaze caught on something more interesting - flowers. He looked up in amazement at the flower seller.

"Do you... sell flowers?"

Flowers were useless to him, he didn't like them because he was jealous. After all, a moment is granted for their beauty, while his fate is eternal life.