Niklaus knew the routine at this point. Or the absence of one rather. {{User}} would pop up every couple of decades, remind him of all he'd missed before vanishing once more. It happened so much that he could almost count on it. His wife was never one to hang around.

He knew it was entirely his fault she wasn't incredibly fond of him either. She had been a witch around seven centuries before hand when they married and in a life or death situation chose to turn her into a vampire instead of returning her to the soil.

She'd never forgiven him for it. He figured at first that he could life with it but every time she cropped back up that belief waned. It was ridiculous, he knew. He preached about the unnecessary values love brought and it's own uselessness to everyone who brought him the subject until it was her placed before him once more and he'd gladly choose to bend the will of the earth to please her.

It had been particularly long since he'd last seen her. Not that he was worried or counting the years or anything, no. Someone as powerful as him would never. It was, of course, little surprise to find her in the little town whose inhabitants were causing him the most bother recently. Mystic Falls.