Rafferty felt the presence of the vampire shift. The redcap did not enjoy the proximity the vampire had taken to him, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand up in warning. He felt like a cat, puffed up and waiting for the other to make a move, but it was quickly gone as the vampire lord opened the doors, the hinges creaking with the weight as they turned; allowing the two creatures access to the rest of the castle.

He turned, following the lord into the hallway. The red cap spoke as they walked, finding his ears twitching with the old sounds of the castle. He thought he could almost hear...

'Slay you, Lord? As I have said before, it is in my nature to be alone; I merely thought this place abandoned. My only regret was allowing the human to be lured and to have done nothing.' The anger was strained, causing his accent to thicken, the hunger demanding to be heard. 'Beware a wounded animal, my ma always said, they may be weak but they can maim as readily as any beast. Regrets come and go, humans are not so rare as to be fighting over them.'

Still, Rafferty was angry. The hunger had been promised a release, promised to have been let out. The vampire brought a fairly decent point, but...

'If you would forgive my hubris, Lord, but I imagine you and I are similar in what we seek. An end to a hunger that will not end, but we both know that is not the case. Instead, I find pleasure in passing time in perfecting my hunt.' He paused, thinking a moment. 'Patience is rewarded.'

Indeed, the waning moon offered faint light to see by; the blue eyes reflecting the meager light. Rafferty knew that it had some significance in rituals, otherwise it was a rock, albeit a massive one. He lifted the beret off his head, allowing the wind to dance with the golden hair; the rings and bones clattering gently with his movements. He replaced his hat and stuffed his hands in his trousers, as he maintained his silence as the vampire enjoyed his freedom.

Rafferty stared at the body with disinterest. What use did he have for a ruined corpse? It wasn't as though he could make it scream; could taste the pain in the muscles; could hear the cries as he broke bone to get to the marrow.

On second thought...

He shook his head, disregarding the body.

'I am merely showing respect to my elders,' his lips were pulled back into snarl, revealing the pearl white teeth; the canines pointed with a subtle curve towards the tip.

Rafferty dabbled in some of the magical arts, necromancy specifically. He had found ways around his kinds inability to go long periods without killing, without having to give in to that hunger that gnawed at him incessantly. He did not care for what he could not see; scrying and seeing glass were not things that interested him. The cold blue eyes watched the vampire lord walk about, seeking his item. He almost scoffed at the vampire lords question, at the waste of time. Humans were toys meant to be broken, why pretend they were anything else?

'What care does a goblin have for the humans?' Rafferty sneered at the word, goblin. 'They are toys for me to break; that is all. Some last longer than others, but they are needed for my life to continue. They are prey, not lords.'

Rafferty felt much like a wolf caught in a bear's den, to find that it had been slumbering only for it to awaken, . Still, Rafferty was a predator as much as the creature before him. His blood would not leave as easily as the humans. His muscles were relaxed, ready to be used for fight or flight. Rafferty thought perhaps if the vampire meant him harm, Rafferty would have been attacked already; the vampires sickly sweet voice did little to ease the redcaps tension, knowing that perhaps the human had been a well-timed warning.

Rafferty watched in some surprise as the slumbering man awoke in fear; the redcap's pupils dilating into slits at the exposure to the light, though perhaps the man saw nothing as the light illuminated Rafferty --standing so still as to a statue, his chest moving gently as the redcap breathed.

The wild fae had lightly tanned skin, evident from the white long-sleeves that were rolled up just  above the elbows; a red vest fit over the long-sleeved shirt and within a vest pocket, a pocket watch; The silver chain, the links small delicate bones cast in bronze; the clasp seemed to be of tiny teeth, the hinge a jaw to hold its position upon the vest. He wore a bracelet on his left wrist, which rattled when he would move the arm for it too was made of bone. A red beret covered ear-length gold hair, the knife-sharp ears slicing through the golden locks to reveal themselves. The tips of both pierced by bone; the outside cartilage of the left ear pierced three more times with simple silver rings, ringing softly as the wind would catch them. Rafferty wore dark colored trousers with shoes that looked well-travelled, though not a speck of dirt sullied his otherwise spotless outfit.

Having been so distracted, Rafferty cursed to himself as the man turned around, questioning who was there. The redcap was surprised to see another man, though he immediately knew that upon the throne, no man sat. Their exchange was watched in silence, though he had to stop himself; visibly gripping his left arm to keep it from reaching out to take part in the feast. The metallic scent that filled the air drew him, gnawed at his stomach; at the hunger within him. He felt his blood heat and his breath quicken. That hunger paced within its cage in his mind.

Rafferty stepped into the light though no further than he had to, his pupils taking on their catlike quality, his English accent thick and old, 'I am Rafferty, my Lord. I am no son of darkness; my mother was a gypsy and my father a bastard.'

As he introduced himself, the redcap bowed slightly at the waist; the bone bracelet rattling as it took a position behind his back and the other over his chest. The blue eyes never left the vampires form. 'I did not know the lord of this castle lived lest I would not have lingered so. It is my hope I have not angered my Lord by stealing the food that would have been his.'

His eyes drifted slightly to the mummified man, frowning.

What a waste of good flesh...

Truly, there was no greater curiosity than a mans own.

Rafferty felt little need in calling the man stupid, for wondering into an abandoned castle that had held little in the way of power, of importance, outside of gathering dust and providing some aesthetic to the expansive countryside. He had been in search of a home, himself, many winters past. Rafferty couldn't call the man stupid, for the castle was not abandoned.

He lived here.

The Redcap held little love for transgressors, and oft tempted those who toured this area away from their groups. His purpose was to kill, after all, and this was his home: Should he not defend it? Glacier-blue eyes had watched the man, stalking; the redcap's form a blur as it merged with the shadows of the night. The moon was a sliver of itself, waning into its dark side. Rafferty brought himself to a halt, staring intently as his ears -pointed and sharp like a knife- twitched. What was that human listening to? The redcap felt he could almost make out the words, but it was just a murmur of wind.

The Fae watched as the man entered a room, that had been locked to Rafferty in mild bewilderment. No redcap would be as foolish as to leave a room unchecked; he had even found the secret tunnels that would allow the lord of the castle, or perhaps minions of his, to traverse unhindered by the normal flow of the ongoings of castle life. He was struck by the extravagance of the room itself, knowing it to be what he had searching for; Rafferty held little in the way of honor, besides this castle had been long since left, abandoned by its creator? The castle itself held a menacing aura from the outside, the inside empty and cold; that menace turned into an evil and hateful cold; an emptiness that clawed at the edges of sanity. Rafferty had long since given his own up, his soul a dark and twisted thing.

Rafferty stood in the shadows of the threshold of the room, his eyes reflecting the light almost greedily; his ears listening to the soft and even breathing of the now slumbering man. Perhaps Rafferty was seeing a ghost? A reflection of a moment in this castles long history?

The Redcap watched silently; settling himself into the darkness to watch the ghost, this moment of frozen time- if it was a ghost- play itself out.

The bear, for all its arrogance, didn't believe that another intelligent being such as itself would be out here. In fact, the mighty being the bear considered itself was almost brought to a halt in its sloth-like march in its quest for food; the bear let out a breath after a second, not realizing he had been holding it. It had been when the animal had decided to check its bearings, checking to see if the scent had changed any.

It briefly pondered how edible the other would be.

The bear's body let out a ripple, shaking off snowflakes yet to melt, and in the next step, a man stood where the bear once had.

Odin was an athletic man, for all the bulk that the bear had to it; red-brown hair shaggy and unkempt -- soon, the thick mane of hair would become burdened by the collective moisture of the falling snow. A dark, golden yellow right eye and an ocean-blue left eye were sat in almond-shaped sockets that rested upon high cheekbones; a gentle concave slope of his cheeks that flowed into a strong jawline, slightly obscured by a growing beard.

His attire consisted of a dark, forest green tunic with a matching pair of breeches that were tucked into a pair of black boots. A sword hung across his back, the hilt and sheathe a bone white - about six inches from the tip of the sheathe was a golden circle inlaid, stylized like flames.

Odin had decided to give up on his first quarry, allowing his course to change slightly in the direction he remembered a good camping site would make, and instead satisfy his curiosity of the other. There would be plenty of time to hunt later. Besides, it wasn't as though he felt the cold overly much in his present form, even the various animals he could change into were all but immune to the harshest of winters, so it wasn't as if a fire would change much for him; save perhaps being able to cook what he found, and even then, he had grown used to raw meat.

Besides, he could use some help to find his way to the village.

'Hello there!' Odin called out as he turned towards the other individual, his voice a deep baritone . 'Are you from the village? Perhaps you could help me. If you are lost, maybe we could help each other.'

The snow the fell around him shook as he spoke; the trees quivering, clumps of snow falling from alive and dead branches. He moved till he was about thirty feet from the hidden woman.

Maybe this other was lost. Not that he was, but Odin enjoyed a companion in his travels and wouldn't turn one down now. Should he be wrong, however, and if he were to have an attack befall his person, he would have a few seconds to ready himself.

He kept his body relaxed, and adopted what he hoped was a gentle smile.

The birds of early morning were beginning to rise from their slumber, soft laughter echoed in the night, the faeries of winter rising to greet the morning sun; the sounds encircling the two as snow continued to fall at a steady pace. None dared approach the area of influence that Odin had, choosing to act as if he were a nuisance, a pest.

They tried to stay out of earshot, as if fearing some form of divine retribution from him; it was never far enough, but any closer and they'd have to be aware of his existence. The shapeshifter didn't question it, rather enjoying the distance they held. He enjoyed it most when he got to choose his companion, not when they were forced upon him.

It wasn't as though Odin had slighted them, or they him; he had merely gained power since he had last stepped into the multiverse -- though he still wasn't sure how it would manifest itself. He did feel changed, undergoing his fathers ritual.

Trial... Whatever...

Odin felt reasonably sure the woman would refrain from attacking him, though given she had just seen a shapeshifting person... Still, she wasn't a hunter looking for glory, or a trophy; He chuckled at the image of his head mounted, as if an average hunter could possibly kill him now.

Ah, there's that arrogance...

Odin hadn't always thought himself so arrogant and full of pride, but he had noticed the thoughts forming more and more.

Perhaps that is why they stay away...

Already, and despite their distance, he could feel his own senses expanding, seeking, the small flickers of power; those same senses stretched towards the hidden woman as well.

How long had it been since had seen anything but a dragon? He snorted, disturbing the snow that had collected on his shoulders and hair.

Could I still get sick?