"How old am I?" she repeated, letting her head fall back, exposing her pale neck. She looked at the ceiling trying to recall just how far she went. Well, she was in Paris at the height of Monet, that was a little over a hundred years ago. She remembered the Jack the Ripper headlines clearly from that time too. Unbeknownst to the public the vampires had put an end to the murderer as he was one of theirs, lost to his bloodlust and crazed and so they ended him before he exposed them all. Further back was the French Revolution. She remembered the war between Venice and Turkey in a bit of a haze as her vampirism truly set in. "Roughly...500? Give or take a few years? I've been around a long time," she answered finally with a nod. Giving her age a number made her realize just how many years have past. She stopped counting forever ago it seemed.<br/><br/>As for his other question, she shrugged. "I got bored. What else can I say? I just thought of trying it out instead of letting you kill me." With her age, came a weariness that no amount of rest could relieve. She would do it herself, but it seemed a cowardly way out to her. Nor was she about to just kneel as his feet and beg for it. She was too proud for that. He'd been the first hunter in a while to hunt her, other gave up or believed they had killed her when instead they had slain other vampires in her stead. "Maybe this is just a little excitement for me, to keep me going...," she said, quietly to herself.<br/><br/>Vidalia had already thought of another question, "Now for mine!" "How many vampires have you killed so far?" Jolan was obviously skilled with his blade and knew how to fight her kind. But did it come from experience or was it just his training and instincts.