Hallbjorn watched as Kara emerged from the bathroom. His first instinct upon seeing her was to fortify himself and close himself up as tightly as possible; to become a fortress with every gate sealed and barred. And without even thinking about it he was - closing himself off and controlling the surging feelings and desires that the sight of his fated female brought to the fore. With difficulty he stopped himself from doing that, and he exhaled slowly, setting the muscles of his front to ripple beneath his skin. The man could<em>feel</em>her eyes upon him - her gaze touching him just as surely as if she were running her small hands over his big, brawny body.<br/><br/>He let himself relax, and allowed the grey to show in his eyes. The big man had his arms at rest by his sides and his back propped up against the headboard of the huge bed as Kara regarded him. Then she drank his blood down greedily, and it was pleasing to him that it sated her thirst better than the blood of animals. That feeling seemed like it was from the tug of fate that pulled him to her and bound him to her. Many immortals found the notion of letting their blood be consumed by a vampire repugnant. The blond man felt some trepidation at the notion of letting her drink from his vein, but only because he did not want her to see his memories. Perhaps it would be better, though, if she did. If she saw then she would not want him at all.<br/><br/>The way that Kara flopped back onto the bed was adorable. It warmed his heart. She had a way of doing things that could warm his solitary heart so easily - she could do something innocuous and everything cold and distant in him began to melt away. Even as another part of him fear how she encroached upon him and feared that he would lose himself in her. If he could not control himself, then he was nothing.<br/><br/>His eyes dipped to look at the tattoo over his heart. "My tattoos show my allegiance to Wóden. Gods derive power from worship, and for a Berserker, a battle did not count to earning immortality if it was not won in Wóden's name. Some warriors carried a banner with his ravens, or had their weapons decorated with ravens . . . but I chose to bear the ravens on my flesh. I was thirteen when I had the ravens on my back, and then sixteen when I chose to have the knot on my chest. The knot is a symbol of Wóden's power over the mind. He is able to lock men's hearts with fear and despair, but also to loosen it with battle inspiration. It felt like a good thing to have on my body when I decided that I would be the master of the berserker rage, not it of me." He said softly to her. They had also hurt incredibly to have done, but there was little purpose in telling Kara about that part of it. It would only hurt her to know how the young Hallbjorn had suffered. But he had done so stoically, without crying out once.<br/><br/>He gestured at the remote with a flicker of his hand. "Pull up the covers and choose something to watch, female." He bid her. The man shifted around fluidly, moving his half of the covers so that they covered him to the waist, pooling around his muscled stomach and leaving the top half of him bared.