nighttime distress [open]

Alphonse was running low on blood, he really was. He was desperately low, down to one last canteen full. He hadn’t been this low, since, well he really couldn’t remember. Maybe since he was a teenager, and was testing his endurance? Oh god, he didn’t even know. But the last thing he wanted was to go, bite someone… He really couldn’t stand the thought of hurting another being, he wasn’t a monster. No, he wasn’t a monster; he refused to be confined to that term. He was a young, elegant man.

It was far past midnight; maybe it was one, two o’clock in the morning? Alphonse couldn’t really keep track of the time. Maybe that was way the Care of Magical Creatures Professor was late to just about everything he did? Nah, that couldn’t possibly have been the reason, not in a million years. His stomach growled, he was really hungry. He might even drink straight from the animal this time.

That was the problem; Alphonse couldn’t even bring himself to bite a living animal to drink from. He had to search the Forbidden Forest for some carcass that had died recently. One that a giant goddamn spider hadn’t gotten too. Which in all honesty, was a pain in his ass. Maybe he was just being testy and snappy, no, fuck that he was being testy and snappy.

The more he ran around hopelessly for his next meal, the more angry and aggravated he got. He was at the point where he was so angry, he might just cry. Not cry a little, no, break down, lean on a tree, and bawl his eyes out. The mixture of hunger and hopelessness taking over. He didn’t want anyone to see him like this, he didn’t want anyone around him.

The stupid drizzle wasn’t helping him either, washing away the scents of anything that could be around. He just decided to give up for a while; he leaned against a tree and slowly sled down, until his knees were to his chest. His dress might just get muddy, but that was the least of his issues right now.

Kestrels were much more suited to flying in dry weather, Marcus thought grimly as he perched himself on an old branch. But there was no helping it. Rain was a common commodity in Scotland. And there were ingredients that needed gathering, although one might consider it the potions master's task to collect herbs from the forbidden forest, it was he who needed the herbs for infusion for his throat. It would have been much wiser to call on the apothecary in the morning but then Marcus doubted he could sleep well with such a horrendous itch in his throat. The matron would have happily supplied him with a suitable alternative but he wouldn't have felt nice bothering dear Pearl at this hour. Marcus never liked people knowing he was ill in a general sense. And he wasn't about to go down into the dungeons in the dead of night to ask for potion ingredients. In fact, he wasn't going to go down into the dungeons. Period. Ever.

Ah well, being in his animagus form did lessen the discomfort considerably. A raptor's senses were definitely much sharper than a humans, though admittedly, they weren't quite as suitable for such conditions as say... an Arctic Owl's? Marcus' feathers puffed indignantly. He was not going to ask Rufus Irving for h- assistance. Besides, he'd already narrowed down his search considerably. If memory serves, there should be a few patches of his elusive quarry somewhere in his immediate vicinity.

He shook himself free of the drizzle and stretched his wings. Marcus was just about to resume his search when his avian senses picked up the sight and sound of someone approaching. That someone eventually came to lean on his tree before slumping down, looking positively defeated. Well, Marcus couldn't leave that someone be, now could he? Not when he knew who that someone was. With a small hop, the wizard-turned-kestrel glided towards the undergrowth. As he was about to land, his figure shifted so that he resumed his original form when his feet came to rest softly on the damp earth.

''Alphonse,'' Marcus greeted. His voice grated painfully against his vocal chords. It sounded hoarse, but it was lined with concern nonetheless. ''Are you alright?'' Marcus had his suspicions about what his colleague was doing in the forest on a night like this, but he kept them to himself. More than anything else, Alphonse was a fellow professor and Marcus would render his aid without hesitation should it be required.

The one thing Alphonse had, the thing that he liked above all other things about being a half-vampire, was the night vision. The fact that he could actually see in the dark, even if he was in a pissy, sort of dizzy state due to a lack of blood. Why couldn’t he have been a half of something else? Like a giant, or be even shorter like a Goblin, honestly, at this very moment in time, he’d rather by anything then a vampire, hell, he’d take being a werewolf above this right now.

He hated this utter feeling of helplessness, he hated it. If anything, he hated himself for allowing himself to be caught up in other things, and almost think he was normal for a change. It wasn’t like Alphonse was going to walk into the Hospital Wing, and drink some human’s blood from a package, the idea sickened him honestly. Not the packaged part, but rather the part of it being a person. That was the whole thing, the whole reason why he drank animal blood, so he could hopefully avoid human blood as much as possible.

Of all the people that could find him, it was Marcus, not like Alphonse had anything against the Transfiguration professor, but, why couldn’t it have been Chrystal that had found him? Or Dave? But then again, why would Dave come to the Forbidden Forest on such a rainy night. He really did miss the man; he seemed to be working a lot of late. “Completely fine.” Alphonse replied, his voice low, probably could barely be heard against the drizzle.

“Perfectly and completely fine, Marcus, thanks for asking.” Now, Alphonse felt like a fool, he had been seen practically helpless by a someone he worked with. He didn’t even want to look at the man, afraid he might bite him or something. Oh thank goodness it was drizzling and washing away part of the smells that surrounded him. The last thing Alphonse wanted to do was smell a being with a heartbeat. Maybe if Alphonse lied the fellow professor would go away..

A deep scowl creased Marcus' already-concerned visage. Even with the rain, the Transfiguration Professor had spent enough time in the classroom to develop a keen sense of hearing trained to pick out the whispers of jaded students. One other trick he'd picked up over his teaching career: the uncanny ability to discern a truth from a lie. And Alphonse Zoram was a very bad liar. For a fellow professor to indulge in such a childish attempt...

"You're fine," Marcus affirmed. He placed a hand on the Gryffindor Head and noted immediately that Alphonse was far from being his usual self. "But you've been better," he added. The crease between his brow deepened. Even in this dim light, Marcus would see that he was pale. Deathly pale. This wasn't good. Fortunately, the Ravenclaw was well-informed when it came to the backgrounds of his colleagues. He had only to piece together Alphonse's dreadful state and his presence here in the woods at this hour and in this weather to get a good picture of what Alphonse was up to.

He was out on a hunt. So was Marcus, really, save that Marus' quarry didn't have legs by which to run away. Although, judging by the luck he'd been having that night, Marcus was inclined to think that perhaps he might be wrong about the latter. He withdrew his arm. It didn't phase him that he might look a tempting meal to his colleague but he didn't want to aggravate any suffering that Alphonse might be feeling. How to approach such a sensitive subject though...

Marcus sat himself on a nearby boulder, indirectly letting the other know that he wasn't about to leave him hapless in the woods and in the rain. "It's quiet in the forest tonight," he said. "Not a single creature for a distance either North or South of here and the only thing that warrants concern are the centaurs to the east. Not that I'm finding it any easier to find what I'm looking for," he finished grimly. It was starting to hurt when he spoke. Perhaps he should consider sending Freyr to the dungeons after all. Marcus had been to scour the surrounding area for his herb. The residents of the forbidden forest tended to hole away during heavy rainfall. But if there was anything to be hunted tonight, Alphonse would find it at the ravine towards the West. Yes, that seemed the most strategic place for a hunt.

Did Marcus have to touch him? Did he really have to? ”Don’t touch me, Marcus.” He intended it to come out gently, but instead it came out in a harsh almost growl like tone. He shrugged away from his fellow professor’s touch; he didn’t want to hurt him. He told himself over and over, as if he said it more than once to himself, it wouldn’t help. The more times he told himself that, maybe the lower his chances were of hurting Marcus. Maybe… Hopefully… He couldn’t argue with Professor Dunesworth. He had been better.

Marcus’ smell was left lingering on Alphonse, and saliva form in his mouth. His stomach rumbled, and he had the urge to just lash out and bite someone. Of course, he resisted, and luckily had a good enough hold on himself. Against his better judgment, he looked at Marcus, it was polite to look at someone when they were talking. ”I’m sorry.” He apologized for his previous actions, and stared at Marcus. Trying desperately hard not to focus in on a vein, which was calling his name. Luckily, Marcus backed away for now. He gave Alphonse some room to breathe.

Alphonse knew Marcus had no intent on leaving him, even though Alphonse hoped, and begged he would. He let Marcus finish talking. He ran a hand through his own hair, pushing out the water that had been absorbed by it. It was useless as the rain was unrelenting. ”A bit too quiet, don’t you think?” He said after the fellow professor had finished talking. ”Trust me, I am well aware that there are no creatures in the Forbidden Forest tonight.” He let out a sigh, before Marcus actually perked some of his interest. He tried to take his mind of his gnawing hunger. ”What exactly are you looking for, Marcus?” He asked, trying the best to sound like his normal self but he failed at it, and he knew it.

Marcus' hand lingered for just a moment longer before he retracted it from the Vampire's shoulder. He was... just a little more surprised than he was affronted by the curt way he was being treated. However, Alphonse's reactions - in hindsight - were understandable. The transfiguration professor had no idea what it was like for a half-breed vampire to be starved of blood and so he could only imagine the temptation he was placing on the man. Alphonse's behaviour suggested accuracy of his thoughts. Marcus sighed.

With a slight gesture of his hand, the sounds of the storm were stilled in their immediate vicinity. He stepped backwards, back out under the full brunt of the pouring rain and looked towards the distant murk. "It's nearing winter," he said. "The centaurs have been particularly active in their hunt recently. I overhead one of them mentioning that they had taken too much from the forest this year." He smiled wryly. "Apparently, this was done on their leader's orders. But as to the reason why... well, I think perhaps you'd be more capable than I in understanding that."


"And that's not technically true either," he said in response to Alphonse's comment about there being no animals in the forest. "I'm certain there are plenty of game left. Though tonight, you might have more luck searching the cave network near the watering hole in the East of the forest." Kestrels - by default - had very good eyes. But it was a wonder how well Marcus had come to know the Forbidden Forest. After all, he wasn't exactly known to be someone who enjoyed the great outdoors. (He had no preference, to be honest.)

Marcus placed his thumb and forefinger to his chin, stroking it thoughtfully. "Me? I'm looking for Leopard's Bane, actually." He frowned. "I had recalled seeing them in this area." Rufus would probably have had it in stock, rare though the plant was. But it wasn't as though he could - in good conscience - disturb him at such an hour.

[ooc: spazzes out over a wet and hot Sebastian Michaelis *A*]