For a few moments he stood where he was, arms folded and head cocked and eyes squinted at the slow narrowing and hastening of Carly's attention.

"Impulsive," he sang to himself, and he licked a fang with a white grin. It was the most fun he'd had in ages, watching the war between beast and beauty explode so savagely behind her eyes. Poor thing wanted so badly to want to be normal -- but every fiber of her existence was tuned to a minor chord, to the shadow and the blood.

He threw himself forward once it was clear she wouldn't look back, he bounded up the middle of the street and with a few long strides was running alongside her, at a distance of several feet. He wouldn't have his own aura screwing up whatever scent she'd latched onto.

"Don't think," he called, just loud enough for her to hear, "just answer: feral or intelligent? Passive or dangerous? Angry or sad? Is it a [i]thing[/i] or a person?" He watched her with bright hungry eyes, and waited for her to guess wrong.