The Call of the Blood Moon Vance sighed and stared out his window in the castle keep. The moon was rising, blood red in the night sky. He knew what it meant; the blood moon called him and his kind. Of all vampires, Vance felt its call most powerfully. A blood moon happened once every hundred years and intensified a vampire's powers and instincts tenfold. For Vance, this would be a time of strength and difficult choices both. He evened out his senses to their height of inhuman ability. He could hear anything and everything from miles away; heartbeats, whispers, sometimes the scurryings of mice in the distance of the woods. Smells were practically potent enough to knock a man over. And his thirst... oh gods, the thirst...

shoo dog

*sprays water*

noooo!!!!