where. his castle who. @counthakan
The war had meant little to Ángel, yet he had still somehow found himself within it. Despite it no longer having happened, the memories seemed to remain all the same. Of blood, of a hunger that had been satiated ten fold over, and of a sacrifice he had brought to a creature he had never tasted before. Even though his memories had otherwise been more entertaining, he knew that it had not been the same for others. Hakan, in particular. The older vampire was not his sire, but he had taught Ángel enough to ensure his respect, and gratitude. So when he had learned of what had become of Ezekiel, he had found himself at the castle. There had been no need to knock, given how he knew the other wouldn't have answered anyway. "You don't have to talk to me, just need to make sure you're still alive," he stated as he walked into the room, "well, in a sense of it, at least."
