Of the blood ((Ambrose))

[Ursula Wolfe]

Ursa continued to watch the make with a hawk like gaze that took in every detail she could. It was something her father had taught her when he taught her to fight with swords. The attack didn't come from just the arm, it came from every muscle in the body. She lifted her eyes to the male’s as he spoke of a fae messing with him and nodded to him. “They are notorious for doing that to all of our kind.” She said and then arched a brow at the male when he questioned about her name and her lineage. To her, it was a rather odd set up, and for a moment, she contemplated not saying anything at all. This male seemed older, with more power than he was letting onto. It was possible that he already knew the answer, and if he already knew the answer then what was the point?

She inhaled for a moment and then let it out in a slow, relaxed breath. “I’m Ursula Wolfe of the Fforde Line. And you are?” She asked as that one brow lifted for her hairline again to put a point on her question. There was something about him that made her want to keep her distance, as if she could feel that he was hiding his true power and that was something that tend to throw up a red flag for her. She began to wonder if she should reach out to Jesse, but at the same time, she didn’t want to seem like she was scared and running off to the head of her line for help because she had opened her big mouth and pissed off someone she shouldn’t.

As she waited for the answer, she closed her eyes and lifted her face to the sky, letting the snow come to rest on her pale face for a moment, the wind was beginning to calm, the snowfall was no longer harsh, it too was calming. Soon, she could tell, the snow would stop altogether. Her eyes opened again and lowered to lock on the male once more as the wind continued to blow her raven hair in front of her face, her skirt flowing around her feet.

[Ambrose Acheron]

The wind beginning to calm around him and the snowfall slackening put the elder vampire’s guard up. Out in the open like this, with no cover from the blowing snow, any Fae nearby would easily sight the two of them. That advantage, or disadvantage worked both ways though until taking the Fae’s ability to appear out of nowhere into account. There was nothing to be done for it at the moment though. His tome suddenly was a welcome weight in his pocket. Looking at the woman for a moment he pondered, debating whether he would answer her question or simply ask more of his own.

Inhaling a lungful of frigid cold air he gives voice to his own name. “I am Ambrose Acheron, eldest of the Acheron Bloodline.” He wasn’t sure if the woman would know of his Bloodline or not, or indeed if she had heard of him. He studies her features though, seeking any sign of recollection, familiarity with either.

“The Fae will be hunting this area soon. Without the cover of the weather they will be able to spot us easily amidst a white landscape. Perhaps he could meet later in a warmer environment, one less appealing to our mutual tormentors.”