Gnawing hunger forced him from his sanctuary. He traveled swiftly over the rooftops and down the alley to the nightclub on the outskirts of the city. Human scents swamped him in the warm summer night. Perfumes, dirty hair and clothes, fragrant food, desire, all mixed with the overwhelming lure of blood. He drifted to the paved ground a little way from the red lacquered door of The Black Lion. His boots made a muffled thud as he landed. He adjusted his jacket, ran his hands through his thick, dark hair, and approached the closed door.
©Elodie Parkes 2014 #HIP
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