Your eyes they tell a story, one that's full of sorrow || Alexandre

[Alexandre]

— alexandre f.m.r

The story of their wound did not need to be told, nor would the feline disclose himself. The point is that it was there. Dastardly and oozing dark blood, the wound ran down the entirety of their forearm. Alexandre stared down at the slash in frustration, trying to press down roughly and stop the bleeding, but it's contents continued to gush, eager to escape it's inner workings. The vampiric feline stared down with slitted eyes narrowed. A growl started to rise out of their throat. Their training with Rosemary had failed him, as they never had a chance for practical use, and the crimson was beginning to stain their alabaster chest as they leaned over.

Their ragged growl came to a slow pause as the subtle sound of footsteps seared into his sensitive ears. The feline tried to pull away, but the stranger had already turned the corner and managed to slip out a comment. Straightening out, Alexandre stood up from the ground and took a confident step forward. "I'll be fine, dear,"  he said, clearly lying through his teeth. "I don't need any assistance from you."  Their gaze surveyed the other up and down, offering a frown. What a strange appearance. An intriguing one, but odd.

Continuing to drip blood, the feline shook out his pelt and started to turn away. "I should be going, but pleasure having you," came his dismissal. His tail flicked in goodbye, but he clearly paused for a moment before having his head turn back around. "Thank you though..." Their kindness was appreciated, but he could handle this himself, or so he thought.