There, in dim firelight, you see him for what he really is: a vampire. A slave to sanguine hunger.

"I-it's not what it looks like," he rushes to explain, but your hand is already inching towards the blade at your waist.

While you were peacefully resting on your bedroll, exhausted from the day's hard labor, your pale traveling companion had snuck up on you to take a nibble.

You feel angry, confused. But above all, you feel... Lied to.

"Little love, please hear me out," he pleads.