Kath'tan approached slowly, subduing an animal had only taken a moment, the animals on Earth were smaller, weaker. He would have left if he could, but he was bound to the foolish Vampire. The rain finally started to fall as he got to the cave, slow, cold drops that fell against his skin.
He dropped the unconscious animal outside the cave, bending slightly to go in. The campfire had reduced in intensity, a pile of sticks in a corner.
Deep purple eyes were immediately fixed on the Shadow Demon as soon as he saw the other, never taking his eyes off him, even though the Shadow Demon was resting leisurely against a rock with his eyes closed. Trusting a Shadow Demon was no different from falling on your sword, either way, the outcome was death.
Even when he turned his attention to the Vampire, his senses were still focused on the Shadow Demon. Kath'tan frowned as he looked the Vampire over. He was lying haphazardly like a pile of clothes, still very much paralyzed.
"How are we going to get the blood to him?" He broke the tense silence in the cave, the sound of the rain muted.
Asael pried open an eye, "We?"
"This was your poison." Kath'tan bit out.
Asael sat up then, typical of noble Demons, they were nothing but pampered Lords who had everything done for them. He went over to the bag he had seen earlier when he came in, movement uncomfortable due to the low cave roof.
He easily found metal bowls in the strange array of possessions the Vampire had, going out to bring the rain-soaked elk in. He had been to Earth a handful of times, his missions tended to take him to the oddest of places.
"Hand me the silver dagger," He held out a hand to the Fiend.
Kath'tan narrowed his eyes in suspicion, not at all eager to part with his only option of defense.
"Or would you rather I use the poisoned knife?" Asael asked impatiently, taking it out. "Here," He tossed the dagger to the Fiend, "We'll trade."
Kath'tan glanced down at the black blade that clattered at his feet, reaching out to take it by the hilt before tossing over the Vampire's silver dagger. "Not worried I will turn on you?" He asked, calmly studying the strange metal.
Asael wasn't panicked by the threat, ignoring the Fiend to fill the bowls he had found with blood. With the blood in hand, he glanced at Lord Kath'tan. "Surely, you don't expect me to feed it to him?"
Kath'tan deigned to glance over, safekeeping the blade. "I'll wring his neck if I do."
Asael clenched his jaw, once again considering eliminating the haughty Fiend Lord and going on his way. He had been too hasty to give his word, and the Fiend looked at him with burning eyes that expected him to renege on their agreement- it irked him.
He went over to the Vampire with a bowl of blood, propping him up so he could feed it to him like an invalid. There was panic in those pale red eyes, but he was very cooperative, swallowing as best as he could.
This was a first for Asael as someone who had always been alone, so it was a messy ordeal, animal blood further staining the Vampire's ruined clothes. After the first bowl was emptied, he went over to get another, turning to find the Vampire sitting without help.
He parted bloodstained lips but seemed unable to form words, a shaky hand reaching out to take the blood from him.
"I won't wring your neck," Asael found himself saying, ignoring the Vampire's silent request to drink by himself. "I don't kill for free."
Kath'tan scoffed from where he sat, "You don't have to work so hard to gain the favor of your target and a foolish Vampire."
Asael paused his motion of tipping the bowl to the Vampire's lips, the bowl getting dented from his grip. Anger was a futile emotion to Shadow Demons, it was perilous even to their missions, which were fraught with danger. The mouthy Fiend was as good as dead anyway, entertaining him was a complete waste of time.
After the second bowl was emptied, the Vampire seemed to have better control of his body, wiping his mouth with his sleeves. "M-My apologies..." Were the first words out of his mouth.
"Save it." Asael cut him off, going back to his spot by the boulder.
Dulce clamped his lips shut, scurrying over to empty the rest of the bowls. Less than a few minutes after recovering, he had begun to bustle about. First, he took the elk's carcass outside the tent, it had been mostly drained of blood, but it still stained the stone floor.
He stood in the rain, staring at the elk sadly, another meal wasted - he really needed to stop getting injured, it was too much on his poor heart.
The wild rabbits were an easier fare to prepare with the limited utensils he had, so he had to let go of all the precious meat lying in the dirt in front of him. The rain washed away the blood in his hair and on his face, but there was no getting it out of his clothes.
He reluctantly returned to the cave, unwittingly cleaning up in the rain. Both Demons were quietly sitting at each end of the cave, their eyes closed, he knew they weren't asleep, yet he treaded quietly, his feet barely making a sound.
His pants could be saved, but there went another of his decent shirts, this one didn't even have a single patch on it. He took off his wet shoes so he could better move around quietly, placing them close to the fire to dry out.
Dulce had to change his shirt, the wetness was the least of his problems. There were two rips in front, and the rapier had gone through completely, so there was another rip behind. Perhaps if he were still at his cottage, he could patch it up and salvage it.
He sat on his knees in front of his disorganized travel bag, the fire giving warmth to his pale skin, his back to the cave. Down his slender back were pale inscriptions that could be barely seen, running down the length of his spine, partly covered by his hair.