Karis pauses with her hand on the door of the Misty Vale.
For a long moment appetite wars with common sense and, almost, she re enters the inn. For the all too familiar uneasy roil of hunger low in her belly tugs at her resolve, and it would be so, so, very easy. But in her head the familiar mantra for survival clamors; no witnesses; no questions; no discovery.
Under the skin hugging mask, her pale eyes hood, and common sense prevails. Cam will keep she decides. Some fare improves with aging.
Moistening her lips, she savors again the exquisite taste, a heady mix of youth and undirected passion.
Yes, Cam will keep, but that need not mean she must go hungry. Adjusting her apparel for best effect she effortlessly insinuates herself under the arm of an exiting patron and smiles her very best smile.
“Hi, you look lonely love. My name’s Karis…”












