Dining Hall

Eilien pretty much danced his way into the dining hall, making a beeline for the storage where the sacks and barrels of food were kept in a dry, cool alcove in the dark. Not that the darkness hindered him any. He climbed on a crate and lifted the lid of a barrel, following his nose to the salted dog meat that lay within. he licked his lips, running his tongue over pearly white fangs. He set the lid down on a nearby barrel and dug in the dog meat one, extracting a hefty side of ribs. He put the lid back on and brought his find to the dining table. taking a seat, he bit into the meat and pulled. The flesh stretched, muscle tore, tendon snapped. Then a chunk separated from the bone, and he chewed it up in a few hasty chews and swallowed it down, savoring blood and meat and gross rawness in all its nasty state. He took another bite, ripping off little piece by piece from the ribs. One of the bones fell away, sliding from its case of grizzle. He cracked the bone with his fangs and began to lap out the marrow.

"It's like nothing you've ever known," he replied in between bites. "Not even your wildest fantasies could construe all that I am, all that I possess at my fingertips. I am more than can be known or ever will be. Your petty mortal kind finds us fascinating that way, and in that fascination, they seek to destroy us. Like we're some sort of threat. A sabre cat is worse threat than a vampire. Though perhaps less terrifying as they take no humanoid form to seduce and trick its prey. Wolf in goat's hide, or something so they say." he held out his half mangled ribcage to the leash. "Can you cook this for me?" he asked. "I would like it with leeks and potatoes and fire salts."

He frowned. "Fine, cook some for yourself too then. But i still want leaks and potatoes with it. And of course we can eat mortal foods. We don't gain much sustenance, and so I think we do not bother, but I can still taste things." He was still holding out the mangled ribcage bits to Legolas with this sort of angered look that said 'take the damn ribcage already'.

Eilien sucked on his fingers till he had gotten the taste of meat off of them, then he wiped them delicately on a rag, one by one, as if he was trying to be especially clean about something. When Legolas spoke, he froze, burning eyes lifting to glare red hot daggers through the wood elf. "And why in the world would I do such a thing?" he inquired in a rather snappish tone, like a slaughterfish trying to bit chunks out of someone's legs. And he was all serious, as if the mere thought of doing such a thing was so foul and beneath him.

"I am not going to chop vegetables like some lecherous peasant," he spat, crossing his arms across his chest. He crossed his legs too, and just continued to glare with his otherworldly eyes. "Don't ever suggest such a stupid thing again," he growled, "or I'll have to put you in your place, and you won't like it one bit, I assure you that." Satisfied with his little scolding, he leaned back in his seat and turned his eyes to the fire, something he detested.

Eilien glared, determined not to be ordered around by this lesser being. He raised one hand, curling his fingers towards his palm. A red, disturbing glow emanated from Legolas, crawled through the air, and disappeared into Eilien's palm as he slowly drained life force from Legolas. "I really want some vegetables, Legolas," he said sweetly, never mind that he was causing Legolas pain.

Eilien just glared daggers of his own, but the glare subsided, and he burst out laughing. It was an oddly sweet laugh, as befitting a child, but it was in no way meant to be intended for good. He grinned and extended his fingers towards Legolas, sucking in vast quantities of life force at a time. "How long do you really want to stand against me over something so trivial as this?" he asked, his voice rather low, but heard easily enough. "Are you really as resolute as all that over serious things, or just the petty ones? I wonder..."