The nights were worst part. The blackness slammed downwards on them, choking and blinking away the humanity that they clung to during the day. Snipping and fraying, the edges of their minds warped and crinkled in on themselves.

One licked her lips. "They're ready." She announced, releasing a frenzied group of howls from those gathered with her. They stretched their talons forwards, clawing and extending. Greedily, one slithered forwards and stroked the tender flesh of her prey.

"Tasty," she observed under her breath. The strongest one, a male, stepped in front of her.

He growled. "You'll stay back and wait your turn."

She snarled in protest, but slunk back into the shifting, gray shadows and said nothing. The male stroked the cheek of the fragrant temptation. The human trembled, breathing in shakily.

"Who-" she choked. Her forehead was slick with sweat, hair sticking to it in curled tendrils. Her knees were drawn up to her chest. The fetal position – something that humans did when they were scared, the male remembered.

Teasingly, he smiled. "I'm Osk."

Surprised that he answered, the human's clenched muscles relaxed. There was something about him that paralyzed her. He looked troubled, though, forehead wrinkling. His face was sculpted, tan and perfect in every measure. He traced the human's jaw tenderly. Odd….this one wasn't so much as angry. She was angerless.

Anxious, he turned to his companions. "She's pure."

A shredded cry released from the group.

"She can't be!" One female answered. Her lips were red and plump like a warm sugary berry. She had once been very beautiful – her freckles stood out from shapely cheeks like sprinkles on an ice cream cone. "We chased her for miles. No one angerless could do that."

The male cocked his head to one side. "Maybe we should..."

"That's a good idea, Osk," the female consented. He nodded at her once, quickly before kneeling back down to the human. A hint, a ghost of a smile upturned her mouth. She was peaceful, and it worried him. Even he was slightly scared when they had pursued him with their lithe pack-hunting.

He gently leaned into her, sliding his lips across hers in a passionate kiss. He didn't, however, puncture her thigh with his longest talon, as such would have to occur for her to be made like them. His humanity bridled his ferocity with this one.

She whispered to him when he pulled back. "Thank you."

Then he remembered. She was the girl whose worries he had feasted himself on for weeks. She was ugly in her own mind, festering there like rotting oddly-colored flesh. He was her parasite. But what had occurred that she was now cleansed of these? Surely she didn't know. He was Osk. He was not this, this bloodless hunter. Surrounding him and crowding him, he noticed, were the fears and pains of his pack. They could be crippled easily. They all could, easily with a slightest touch from his restraining hands. Hands that once held anger of their own. Was his humanity lost during this endless sheath of night? He remembered what he looked like, what he looked like to this human.

Slightly upturned nose like a pixie's, almost fairylike. High cheekbones, slender neck, tannish features and full, pinkish, rosy lips. His eyes – long-lashed and blacker than night.

This was his humanity, his fault.

He reached out his hand to the human, taking her head into his hand and applying slight pressure. Her fears popped from the surface instantly. He smiled a devious, satisfied smile.

"She's ready."