damnitarmand:

Since memories triggered by scent are the strongest…

Send my muse a scent and see how they’ll react to it.

Blood is a multitude of things for me. I am not certain I can form them all into words.

Hunting. The heady drum of mortal pulses as I extinguish them, swallowing them down.

Pleasure and pain.

Crimson and copper from the fount of Daniel’s throat and every other place on his body that I can draw from. Love and desire.

The sweet, redolent sting of heat and the first touch of safety when I first tasted Marius.

Fear. Dim shadows. Extinguished light.

As with all things, one could speak forever and only begin to reach the heart of it. Blood is a well of memory, held within our veins, waiting to be tapped.