[center][sup][h1][color=black]Iustina Anghelescu [/color]
[color=CD5C5C]Iustina Anghelescu[/color][/h1][/sup]
[i][color=CD5C5C]The Wronged[/color]
[sup]Harm: 0 | Luck: 0[/sup][/i][/center]
[center][sup][h2]Fortesque Street, Eastern Stone's Throw[/h2][h3]Near Hopper's Bar[/h3][/sup][/center]

[sup][color=A9A9A9]Much like any other sort of person, every vampire was different. Each one had their own preferences for hunting. But what exactly had this one meant to do? Had it been trying to disguise itself as a plant? Had this been a spontaneous hunting session by a fresh vampire who’d barely dusted themself off? Whatever had gone on here, the details were definitely far from what Iustina had come to expect of vampires. Hopefully, she could wring some commentary out of it before its time came. But that depended on catching the thing. 

The blood trail gave a clear direction. Once she had photographed the scene to her satisfaction, Iustina started following the blood. It was fortunate that neither weather nor foot travel had completely eroded the trail. As expected, the vampire had taken care not to spill too much blood. Whatever wounds it had made were either shallow or quickly attended to to the best of its ability. Drop by drop, the trail proceeded eastward. The benefit of small towns like Stone’s Throw was that there was no constant flurry of activity muddling useful information with countless other stories. And the weather hadn’t yet wiped the slate clean either. 

Drop by drop, Iustina started to assemble a picture of the night. The attack must have been in the alley, no doubt. There, Clara had most likely been knocked out, bound, or otherwise incapacitated. The trail appeared to indicate so, anyway. The distribution of the droplets, to Iustina’s eye, suggested Clara had not been putting up any significant struggle by the time she was taken from the initial scene. Few and far between though these droplets were, they were still bread crumbs offering some vague direction. The vampire had brought her east, in the opposite direction of the bar. Iustina followed the trail for some kilometer or so to the edge of the town. It was a shame. The stupid ones, the unlucky ones—those were easy quarries. It was moments like these where Iustina wished she had a good hunting dog. The wilderness was busier than the town; already, the wildlife had messed up the trail enough that she doubted she could reliably follow the trail by sight. A good nose could have caught a scent.

She shook her head and sighed. She could waste time contemplating possibilities out of her reach, or she could change course. When hard evidence wasn’t working out, the next best thing was eyewitness accounts. Even though townsfolk were less nosy than they were before modern entertainment, if there had been any noise—any sort of attention-grabbing commotion—at least a few of the neighbors would likely have peeked out the window. Considering nobody, as far as Iustina knew, had called the police the night of the incident, it was unlikely there would be any substantial reports. But if nothing else, maybe there were people who had later gone in with things they’d observed, or who just needed a bit of help jogging their memories. And, if that failed, they might at least be reminded to be on the lookout for future incidents. 

The beginning of a new hunt was usually like this. It was a lot of throwing mud against different walls to see if anything stuck. If this murder was a one-off thing, and no new clues or incidents occurred, then it would be a bust, and she’d have to look for the next hook. Fortunately, as she understood it, few vampires were keen to abandon a community they’ve been invited into so quickly. For now, it was a matter of doing a broad diagnostic, and see what loose ends there were to pull at.

Iustina took a moment to straighten her posture and make sure her appearance was sufficiently confident and professional before she proceeded. Then, she approached the last residence on the street before the town gave way to wilderness. She rang the doorbell, and waited.

If there were an answer, she’d start with a simple lead.

[color=CD5C5C]“Good morning. If you have a moment, I’d like to ask you a few questions about the Clara Mathews situation.”[/color]
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