and these little things define you forever | open + margy

[Margaery]

[color=#b14767] ❁  ❁  ❁

Margaery's struggles with vampirism often boiled down to her skewed moral code. She could take lives, yes, but only from those who she deemed to be unfit to continue to live. A typical victim of the chocolate point's had either been found in the act of committing some terrible deed or had been determined a sinner by Margaery upon inspection. She hated playing god though (especially considering how unlawful it was of her to simply kill another individual) and saw her methods of deciding who got to live and who got to die as a mere security blanket so that the reality of her situation could never completely sink in. She was, admittedly, running from from the truth of her condition and had reasoned to do so until a better solution to her issues came along.

She had no idea that that solution would find her today- crafted by Bastillepaw himself.

Four days had passed since Margaery last fed and to say that she was hungry, weak, and irritable was an understatement. She knew of the importance of abandoning the Ascendants territory for a few short hours and dining on blood until her thirst was sated but, as always, feared the worst. Control had always been a weakness of the girl's and she often times found herself wanting to let go in the face of her vampire side just to make the burden of her affliction a little easier. She supposed that being in a constant, ravenous state aided her not as well and refused to even risk the chance of succumbing to her own demons.

But what else was she to do? 

She felt the urge to snap as she heard her name, temporarily unable to place the voice's owner before realizing, with mild curiosity, that it was Bast who required her presence. He had been full of surprises as of late and she, despite her terrible mood, had no choice but to locate the male and see what exactly he had prepared for her this time.

What she stumbled across... it could not have amazed her more.

The mini-fridge was stocked full of blood and labelled incredibly neatly, eliminating the need for her to go on prolonged hunting trips simply so she did not die. Upon closer inspection though, she discovered that he had merely gathered the blood of various preys... not the feline blood that her body would only accept.

[color=#b14767]"Bast," She began in a shaky voice, a smile spreading across chocolate-hued lips, [color=#b14767]"This is one of the most thoughtful things anyone has ever done for me." She paused, contemplating her options on how to proceed for a brief moment. On one hand, she could easily refill the bottles with the type of blood she needed without so much as revealing the severity of her condition. On the other, she could offer him the truth and hope and pray that he did not see her as ungrateful for whatever reason.

She supposed that the latter was a far wiser choice.

[color=#b14767]"I must be honest with you... I can only drink feline blood. The blood of other animals has the ability to make me very sick or even kill me. I appreciate the gesture more than you know though... Nobody has ever tried to accommodate my awful, awful vampirism."

And on that note, she tried to pull Bastillepaw into a hug. He was not the type, she knew, but she didn't know how else to express her unwavering gratitude.