Wysteria let her body hang limp in her sire’s grasp. Her head drooped, hair congealed with drying blood flopping in front of her bruised face. The fight, the spunk, the fire she usually had in her belly was - Gone. Along with her thirst, any extreme emotion had been snuffed out like candlelight beneath breath. Whatever magic her sire had bestowed upon her was a suppressant. But it worked like a master switch: She felt next to nothing anymore.
The fledglings eyes slid to rest on the Huntress. Something like a hint of resentment echoed in her chest as she took in her understated beauty, her golden brown eyes, the human pigmentation of her skin… ‘Lyselle…’ the name sounded familiar to her, made the blood in her veins sing with recognition. Who was this human? This lucky earthling, plain of blood, totally and utterly mortal… Why was she so special? 
Her sire was merciless. She was larger than life. Majestic. Her bloodlust was in her drivers seat… So what had made her spare this human?
‘My love…’ The words echoed in Wysteria’s mind. Like the pieces of a puzzle finally falling into place, like a blurred picture coming into focus, Wysteria realised that this current in her veins was second-hand smoke. It was an indicator as to what her bloodline was feeling. Wysteria’s Mother had formed some kind of… Love? For this human? 

As she hung from her Mothers hand, her hung eyes looked up from underneath the curtain of bloodied hair. 

[i]“M-Mother!”[/i] she croaked, just as a werewolf she recognised leapt from the thicket behind them. 

________________________________

Violet; ever-obedient, ever-well behaved, followed her brother’s signal as he leapt out into the clearing where the vampires and Huntress were gathered. She watched him sail through the air, claws and jaws glistening in the moonlight, a bone-rattling raw erupting from his maw. 

Violet followed suit, springing into the air and letting out a long, drawn-out howl. Her body landed on the ground with a thud, muscles rippling with the strain of her landing, and her breaths came hard and fast as her wolffish eyes took in the scene.

Victor had chosen the newcomer. Probably wise, Violet could sense her power. She was to target the already wounded vampire. Something was different about her this time, though. Her fight, her ferocity, had been diluted. Instead, the battered vampire seemed to have let go of that aggression she’d possessed when Violet & Victor had first attacked. 
At this realisation, Violet barked a sneered laugh. She focused her attention on the fledgling, predatory senses lasering in on her. She had the young vampire in her sights, like a sniper shooter zooming in on their kill. 

The werewolf braced, and pounced. Mimicking her brother’s attack, she soared through the air aiming straight for the defeated vampire who just watched her approach with a hint of apprehension in her eyes. The undead seemed to have accepted her fate and as she began her descent, totally on target, Violet could taste her dead flesh crumbling beneath her jaws already.

______________________________

[b]"One behind you - one the opposite way."[/b]

Renaissance quickly relinquished her grip on Wysteria, immediately sensing the scream of danger behind her. Discarding her like a disinterested child with a toy, Ren hissed as panic jetted down the bond. She tried to quell it, to soothe the whine of danger filling their connection, but it was difficult to argue with the truth: They were headed into a fight to the death.
Whipping her head round to see for herself, the Ancient Vampire came face to face with the utter beast of a wolf man sailing through the air towards her.
Harmonising with the wolf’s roar, a blood-curdling shriek escaped Ren’s mouth. Not of fear, of warning. Haunting, the animalistic noise that resonated in the forest clearing was a frequency that would jar the werewolves. With hearing so heightened, the Vampiric screams were an affective deterrent. Ren knew this. So she parted her lips, fangs glinting, and screamed again. It was otherworldly, that sound. Like a car alarm mixed with a banshees cry. A sound undoubtedly painful for a creature that heard frequencies beyond human ears.

And like a well-choreographed dancer, Renaissance twirled so fast she felt herself become a blur as she jumped and flew backwards through the air. Time seemed to slow as she barrel rolled out of harms way; An elegant mess of cloak, hair and poised limbs, the ancient vampire narrowly dodged the werewolf’s pounce. But still, he’d come close enough to make her even more wary. Its lupine smell ignited her nasal cavity; wet dog and vampire blood. Landing in a crouch, Renaissance felt the cool earth beneath her palms as she flicked her head to mark her enemy. Both of them, gazes locked, knew this was the beginning of a tiresome fight. One that Ren refused to lose.

[i]“Lyselle!”[/i] the ancient vampire’s call was shrill and laced with urgency. She sent warning down the bond, urging her to stay alert, to get ready to fight or defend or run or whatever she needed to do. Whatever was necessary, Ren expected her Huntress to act. Granted, the Vampire believed in her own abilities. But two werewolves and one wounded fledgling? There was more than just a margin for error. There were factors Ren couldn’t control… And that was what unsettled her.

[i]“Human!”[/i] snarled the female werewolf, the one pinning Wysteria to the forest ground with all fours, her dripping, slobbering jaw inches from the fledglings face. [i]“We can handle this! Either help us fight… Or be on your way!”[/i] 
Ren didn’t take her eyes off of the male werewolf, the stronger of the two. She eyed the vulnerable flesh connecting the skull to that thick, pulsating neck. It was there that she’d aim for. Sever the tie, detach the head. That was the only way she’d put an end to this bloodthirsty beast. The ancient vampire braced herself for his next move. Aggressive creature wouldn’t be able to resist making another attack and this time, Renaissance would be ready.