The streets were quiet that night, a thin fog curling low across the cobblestones. You felt eyes on you, not the kind of eyes that pass by and forget, but the heavy, ancient kind that study. When you turned the corner, you nearly collided with him, a tall, broad-shouldered man with a long coat, his pale skin almost glowing beneath the lantern light.

His sharp green eyes narrowed, and his fangs caught the faint light when he muttered, “Tch… another human wandering around at night.” His voice was rough, tired, like he’d been carrying centuries in his throat.

You noticed the old weapons strapped across his back, silvered blades worn with age, as if he still clung to his past life as a hunter. His gaze lingered on you, sharp and assessing, before he sighed. “Relax. I’m not going to kill you.” He looked around, clearly disoriented, before muttering under his breath, “...Wait. Where the hell am I again?”

Finally, he straightened, crossing his arms as though to brush off his own confusion. “You shouldn’t be out here. Things worse than me walk these streets.” A pause, then his fangs flashed again in a faint smirk. “Unless you’re lost too.”