The Search

He looked toward the tavern, and saw the group assembled outside. He stared at the woman they were all attending to, knowing full well that there was nothing they could do. The man smiled to himself. Worry for her as you will, but your fears will accomplish nothing. The smile widened, revealing a toothy grin. Soon, I will feed from each of you, as I feed from her even now.

He watched for a time, wondering what became of his previous victim. He had entertained high hopes for that one -- one of elven blood no less. But something had gone wrong, and he was no longer able to draw sustenance from that creature. Perhaps the elves had found a way to remove the taint... But he could not afford to entertain such thoughts. His very survival hinged on the fact that, in hundreds of years, no cure had been found. He took comfort in that. The elves stood no chance then... they will be just as powerless this time.

The man clenched his fist in front of his face, staring at the muscle and sinew that were being renewed. He smiled. This will do. His hair hung in his face, and he noticed that it was returning to its natural red, and the aged silver that had replaced it was slowly vanishing. Yes. She is small in stature, but her will to endure is enough to sate my appetite for some time. His mind wandered to another victim. A pity she will soon begin to waste away as the healer did. I wonder if she will be able to sustain herself as long as he has...

In the clearing, the woman was clutching to the post of the stable. The stable-hand tried to steady her, but she refused the help. Those that stood nearby knew that she was ill, but they could not understand the affliction. The young woman slowly and delicately made her way to the entrance of the tavern, careful not to draw attention to the sheer effort it required. The others seemed to sense it nonetheless.

As the group made their way inside, the hidden presence watched it all from just a few feet away.

Patience. The time is coming...