The soft feathers of the raven billowed easily in the cool London night as the black bird flew over the partially sleepy city.  The raven itself loved the feeling of the air along her eyes and head, rushing past making it feel alive.  The air around her was full of the hard smell of ale and cheap beer, mixed with heavy sex and occasional vomit.  Janiel hated that part of her life.  The crawling in the muck but, such was the life of a blood savage.  Without warning and suddenly catching Janeil off guard,  was a subtle yet most lucious scent, The smell of  heavy iron flooded her keen senses.<br/><br/>Blood, the precious liquid of life ripe for the drinking.<br/><br/>The avian floated its way to the source of the addiction, a small room in an unremarkable inn.  The raven landed lightly, scratching lightly with its talons to grip the window ledge.  Giving a slight -caw- the bird didn't even get the women to look up. "Good, oblivious as usual." Janeil thought to herself, as she took a more direct look with her jet black raven eyes.  The dark bird looked into the open window, it black cold eyes seemingly peering at the pair of women in the bed before her.  Thier naked bodies entwined, almost in a dance.  Janeil knew there was something more, humans were never this truly romantic.  Could it be true?  Like and internal answer, the pearl like woman dropped a pair of fangs into the other woman's neck, the quick cut sounding like silk being torn quietly.  Janeil laughed to herself, and in doing so let out another -caw- that even suprised herself, "This one doesn't even suspect I am something more.  I wonder if our kind can feel my chill?  Its not worth it.  Let them have thier fun.  Farewell, blood child, we will meet again...I promise you."  Janeil memorized the look of the noblewoman, and took flight again, in a low -swoosh-.<br/><br/>The small bird flew aimlessly over the small buildings, letting the subtle wind keep her hollow bones trapped in flight, her wings unmoving.  Janeil followed the air currents for a while longer, and once again the sound of desperation and heavy grunting caused her pause.  The raven tucked her wings into her sides, and ducked her dull yellow beak down and dove toward the surface.  The avian pulled from her dive just in time to slowly land herself on an rough cloth awning.  Cocking her black head to the side, and squawking like any other bird, Janeil noticed something she wasn't ready for.<br/><br/>Her mortal enemy.  The dull black eyes watched in silence as the man huffed a few times, uttering the word -gypsy- before his orgasm was to come.  The bird reared back, her wings uncontrolled and almost in a panic as she witnessed the sloppy man get drained before her cool eyes.  A spiritdrinker.  Janeil quickly forced her wings to obey her, and started using her beak to tear at the cotton of the awning, making her suddenly unininteresing to the stranger. "Yes, yes, my spirit drinking friend, do your worst, I know who you are now.  Remember, there is always someone watching." Janeil thought to herself.  Patiently the raven watched and fluttered now and then, as she watched the spiritdrinker clean up and leave the body where it died.  The gypsy headed off into the distance, as a welshman confronted her from afar.  Janeil took that opportunity to hop off the awning, letting her claws clatter on the cobblestone for a few moments while she became one with the shadow, then taking her real form.   The shadow like woman knelt down over the body of the fallen, and in one fluid move, pierced his dead flesh with her elongated fingernail letting some of his blood splash to her finger.  Lifting the sample to her tongue, she spat quickly and quietly. "Bah, should have known that the blood too would be useless after one such as her."  Using her black heeled boot, Janeil kicked the body so it wouldn't be found until the stench made people wander to the alley.<br/><br/>Janeil flipped her eyes skyward as a morning jay started sounding in the distance, "Damn.  I have wasted my night playing in the sky.  Dawn approaches, as does my duties to the crown."  The vampire took to the shadows and whisked past the spiritdrinker and the welshman, in a cold flurry on her way to her hidden home.  Having no need for sleep helped in her life, for she could be anywhere she wanted and take her time.  This was no different.  Gliding through the shadows like an black ice wind, she made her way to the plush inn that housed her in London.  She slid herself through the crack in her door and reformed her body completely in the dark on the otherside.   Janeil quickly changed from her hunting clothing of all blacks and blues, putting on more rich and noble colors of maroon and purple.  The fashion of this period forced many women into uncomfortable clothing all becuase men desired small wastelines and wide hips. "I don't have time for this nonsense!  There are spiritdrinkers in our hunting grounds!"  The ink haired woman stopped for a moment to calm down as she completed dressing for her day, "You are a baroness.  Act it, Janeil Ryves."  She grabbed her gem hat of black and burgundy trim, placing it perfectly to accent her strawlike reflective hair, pulled her hair behind the attached veil and stormed out of her room, headed for her daily duties.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>