Blood. Oh how he had missed that smell, the sickly sweet taste as he gulped it down from some dumb animal that tried to drink form his swamp, exquisite. The source however, didn't look as appetizing. She was in a large hoody with tight jeans. Virgil never did understand peoples obsession with clothes, back in the swamps people usually wore shorts if anything at all. With a languid stretch, Virgil popped his spine a bit and decided to get up. One of the other "not so crazies" got up and tried to check on the girl who just came in. Virgil didn't really care, nor did he care about anybody else in this room either. All he wanted right now was a steak, nice and rare. His mouth watered a bit and his stomach growled. 

Seeing as feeding time wasn't going to happen anytime soon, Vigil wandered over and started to look around. Grabbing a book he wasn't planning on reading, Virgil started to walk towards the other not so crazies. Slowly but surely dedicating their smells to memory. He felt like he would get real....acquainted with these people fairly soon and he wasn't always allowed to go out without a blind fold. If its one thing that he hated about his croc side, is that blindfolds make him mellow, too mellow. He wasn't planning on knowing names, not yet. But he was sure, that one way or another, they were going to help him get out of here.