The pack was bustling like it had been for some time now. Davian had been staying with them for a while now, but he felt out of place. Being on his lands, where somebody else ruled and lived in the mansion that he once helped build with his bare hands, was a lot to get his mind over.
He didn't care for ruling over Silver Crescent, but these halls, these lands, were plagued by the ghosts of his memories. He was the remaining living Cross from that century, and he hadn't been back to the mansion until Cassius forced him to help him from that tomb. Now Davian was a never ageing statue of flawlessness.
That was something he knew humans would crave after, to always remain to look young and healthy. That was why the existence of vampires was quite a dangerous thing. Many would seek them out to be changed into beings that could no longer venture into the light. That wasn't his problem, though.
