Echo was already attempting (and failing) to pick his sorry form up off the ground when a pair of flat-clad, dainty little feet appeared in his swimming line of sight, along with the the strange aura of energy. He was somewhat surprised that the blonde woman had returned – usually humans fled in terror if ever they unearthed what he was. His ears were ringing and he was trouble deciphering whatever it was she was saying, but her touch was gentle – soothing even – and that was all the reassurance he needed as she began coaxing him to his feet like and unbalanced toddler.<br/><br/>He limped terribly, and his duster caught around his heels to trip him up as a result of his slouched posture. Stumbling blindly as the woman guided him, he managed to make it a little further down the street and though the front door of what he assumed was her abode, which also buzzed with that same energy, where he was then seated in straight-backed chair without falling flat on his face. There were some close calls, though.<br/><br/>He slumped then, thighs well apart and his forearms braced against his knees, head bowed to the ground. Blood dripped from his nose to puddle on the floor between his ankles, and he swayed unsteadily. The blond woman fussed about him, her voice sketchy and distant as she muttered something about the couch, which he ignored. He didn't much care for her furnishings. She stood over him for a little while, rambling in I strange tongue he wasn't familiar with, hands splayed over him rather like she had done while she fended off the Vampires, though her stance was not defensive.<br/><br/>'<span style="font-style: italic">Mida teed sina</span>?', he managed to croak dryly. It didn't occur to him that it might have been more apt to have asked in English, though he was hurting too badly to really harbor any genuine curiosity for her weirdness. It was only when her bare wrist was stuck under his nose that he perked up.<br/><br/>He glanced up at her, his green eyes dull, though the whites were now a rich crimson, but she only stared expectantly down at him. He didn't need any more permission than that. What remained of his lips parted, drawing back over a sextet of needle sharp fangs where the upper lateral incisors, canines and first premolars would otherwise exist on any healthy mortal man, and sunk them easily into the unlar artery. The effect was almost immediate.<br/><br/>With every swallow of the strange woman's life essence, Echo's own strength doubled. His ruined face began to mend; his lips began to heal, their rough, shriveled texture easing until they were soft and pouty once more, and his grilled cheek plumped out, new flesh growing over his exposed cheekbone while a blanket of pale skin enveloped the now healthy muscle. His nose, most of which had been burnt away, began to reconstruct itself, and his eyes regained their jade hue lively shine; the crimson backdrops fading to a pearly white. The bay hair that had been burnt from his scalp regrew, and his nails resprouded from the ends of his newly formed fingers. The gaping wounds on his back began to sew themselves back together, though he was forced to pull away before the process had completed – something about a mar from Vampire was not so easy to mend. It was a slower process, and required a far more substantial amount of blood than what the little woman had to offer.<br/><br/>She moved away the moment he let go, and he lent against the back of the chair, panting slightly. 'Once you're healed enough, I guess you can have the couch. Or there's a shower.' A shower sounded rather appealing to Echo, who was now examining his hands intently as the last of the damage faded away. His cuticles had never looked so good.<br/><br/>When he stood to face her he had intended to thank her, perhaps introduce himself and inquire as to her name. But, instead, he merely frowned as she darted about the kitchen preparing her own meal, and asked: 'Who are you?'