The stench attacked his senses, filling his nostrils with a fiery sensation. The air tasted like rot, and coldness rippled on the surface of his copper skin. A vampire was on the loose. His favourite creature of the night to hunt. [url=https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/690308848594059384/1318382689585336361/image.jpg?ex=67621f0f&is=6760cd8f&hm=a89ef5ee4334fd0bb0971be4c5f17c551a80d1e8b22191bf133fde4de8844599&]Floyd Landry[/url], the nomadic child of the moon found himself in York, England - having spent the past few days tracking this vampire and the trail of missing bodies it had left in its wake. Ever since Floyd had received his "great gift", he rejected his beastial nature and clung on to the man within him with a vice-like grip. Refusing to lose himself, he dedicated himself to become a force for good - to use his curse against those that would harm others. 

Perched atop a small and weathered building, a relic of this nation's long history. Floyd's head lifted toward the starless sky, sniffing for a trace of his ancient rival. The four scars drawn across his chest itched, the wolf could sense its time was near - time to face its competition as the apex predator. 

The corner of Floyd's left lipped curled into a smirk, licking his lips he bared his fanged teeth in a toothy grin. For once, himself and the wolf were in agreement. Floyd felt the rythm of his heart accelerate and the surface of his skin warm over, combatting the cold effects of the vampire's scent on his senses. 

Recalling the memory of his last encounter with a vampire, the details were hazy but his other senses remembered vividly. The ice cold sensation of its blood splattered on his fur, his claws tearing its flesh apart like mache paper, the toughness of its heart between his razor-like teeth. The rush of going to war with an adversary so intrisic to the core of his nature filled him with a rush of excitement he rarely felt since he contracted his affliction.

Returning himself to the moment, to his hunt. Floyd's glowing eyes lingered to the cobbled street below, his ears picking up on the echo of footsteps approaching the empty street. He steadily listened to the rythm of the approaching individual's heart and tuned his nose to their scent. Female, no older than 25. She wasn't his prey, but... her blood wasn't human... it smelled ancient.

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