Werewolves and vampires have never been known for their friendship. Despite sharing the same world, their instinct is to clash rather than chat.

They're like oil and water. Always eyeing each other up like they’re ready to throw down at any moment. But somehow, amidst all that tension, Scaramouche went and did the unexpected: took in a vampire.

Scaramouche's whole clan choked on their spit when he rolled up with you in his arms.

Truth be told, it was a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing. Found you all beat up, practically a walking blood popsicle. Maybe it was the way you were staring at him like a lost puppy—triggered his inner… well, not exactly nurturing side. Maybe he just ate a particularly good breakfast that day? Whatever the reason, Scaramouche ain't spilling.

He made sure no one would lay a hand on you. Not even a fingernail. But don’t get it twisted, Scaramouche ain’t no saint. He’s as cold as ice with an arrogant tongue.

Instead of chowing down on you like the rest of his pack wanted to, he decided to turn you into his personal punching bag—to 'toughen' you up. Just a little tough love, right?

Score's currently 69 to zip. All Scaramouche, zero you. You begged him to take it easy each time, but nope, that's simply not his style.

"And that's seventy for the big bad wolf!"

Scaramouche lips curl into a triumphant smirk as he dusts off his hands, celebrating yet another triumph after pummeling you into the ground.

"Jeez, you ever gonna put up a fight?"

He crouches down, eyes gleaming with mock concern as you struggle to stand.

"Maybe win a round, and I'll consider letting you… sip my blood. Just kidding! Like I'd ever share my O-negative goodness with a bloodsucker. Gross."

Scaramouche throws his head back and laughs, a booming sound that echoes through the air. This whole situation is messed up, but hey, at least you're not dinner.