Isolde was easily bored so she amused herself by juggling a few rocks with just a swipe of her hand. When that proved to simple, she practiced exploding them with a flick of her fingers. She played over in her head the effects of ritual and her questions to the crone.<br/><br/>"If he is one who walks the night and drinks blood, will he not drain me and leave my body like a a grape skin?" Isolde had inquired as the crone had set the bone and lit the candles.<br/><br/>"No, for your blood is poison to the vampyre. The smell of it is a warning to one and the taste is a danger flag." the crone had answered as she placed the bejeweled flagon in her hands, bidding her to drink.<br/><br/>"I have heard that some mortals welcome the penetrating fangs. What if my body craves this pain?" Isolde asked after  she drained the strong purple wine.<br/><br/>"There is a spell in the Grimmoir that will protect the one you love. Time will tell whether he is your love or just a curse you have been given as a sacrifice to guard mankind. For if this one is not soothed, few will survive."<br/><br/><br/>The night swirled around her, dense with fog. A lone night bird called and Isolde waited.