He could see that she was unharmed. She was moving, blushing fiercely, and seemed remarkably coherent. He, on the other hand, was not. With the shock of sudden blood lust like he had not felt in fifty years, combined with intense exposure to the sun, it was all he could do to remain crouched there beside her. He couldn't take his eyes off her.<br/><br/>Her dress teased him. He could see her curves clearly, the shape of her breasts, the hourglass shape of her body... but it was all carefully covered, concealed from his ravenous eyes. He wanted her more than he'd ever wanted anything.<br/><br/>She spoke to him, but he couldn't bring himself to focus enough to understand her words, let alone respond to them. She rose to her feet and began picking up items, stuffing them back in her bag. He responded instinctively. His youthful days, the time when one learns the rules by which they live their life, was spent in a more chivalrous time. One simply did not allow a lady to toil this way without aid. Though his eyes never left her delicate throat, he rose from his crouched position and moved to her side quickly. With graceful movements despite his condition, he picked up her belongings, neatly stacked them, and handed them to her before she could place the next item she'd grabbed into its place.<br/><br/>His brain was completely unhinged now, as her scent assailed his senses once more. He blinked a few times, allowing the scent to fill him.<br/><br/>"You are... so beautiful, dear lady..." he purred. His words formed of their own accord-- he did not will them, "I am honored by your concern, but do not let my condition trouble you. I am in perfect health, I can assure you."<br/><br/>He was beginning to find it incredibly hard to move, and yet still he did not let it show. He moved with grace as he stepped closer, watching her every move.