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He finally settled down a bit when the private plane landed smoothly on the empty runway. It was so bright outside to be so early, something he was sure would take some time to get used to. When the plane finally came to as top, the joyful Damien shot up from his chair, wraping his arms tight around the shoulders of his beloved Master. It was all he could do to keep from crying, but he did fairly well at hiding it. "Thank you oh so much!"

His joy was well founded, having been protected for so long, and looked after when he fell into a horrible mess, and now, he was in London. It was so beautiful, the way the sky looked like it was on fire with all the lights. Just how busy the city was at this hour amazed him, never before had he seen so many beautiful people in one place. So much warmth, so much for them to take in, he wasn't sure he could contain it all.

The uncomfortable sensation in his pants had all but faded, his mind too preoccupied with details to think about sex. So his warm smile broke across his face once more as he kissed his love on the cheek, asking if he was needed for anything.

With a happy heart he scrambled to gather as many things as his small arms would possible carry, which with his condition, was quite a large ammount. Concidering how lost he felt when he had left his only home, his mood had drasticly changed over what little time they were on their flight. And in his hasty rush, his glasses somehow went missing momentarily, reappearing in shatter pieces under his foot. This of all things put a slight damper on his mood, kneeling down to examine the broken pieces, his delicate fingers tracing over the shattered lenses. He winced, a small red line forming on his index finger. In a small kind of animalish whimperm he lightly placed the wounded finger into his mouth, sucking at the blood that still asted human of all things. This kind of thing seemed to be happeneing a lot to him lately.

Damien took all the things from the plane, setting them down on the runway, watchin intently as their car pulled up. He placed all the cases and bags back into it, leaning heavily against the door, running his white fingers through his hair as he took in his surroundings, making note of each small detail. Every sound, every light, shadow and smell was noted somewhere in his mind, but the smell of blood was purly entoxicating to him now, and he soon realized that he still thirsted for it, but pushed that hunger down, wanting to stave off the hunger as long as he could without causing harm to himself.

The lights around him, coupled with the loud noises of the city, all melted together, giving him a slight headache, only getting worse when he heard the sound of a woman scream, no doubt being raped or killed, though he doubted no one else heard it. He realized that what he had drank was now his own blood, and felt suddenly colder, and a bit lonely. "You know... Crowe... What if I get caught here... what if I kill too much, if the hunger gets too bad and you can't control me..."

The blonde boy was satisfied with this answer, though he still thirsted for blood, but, like before, he ignored it and got into the car. He felt strange now, like they were being watched for some reason. Like the hair on the back of his neck was warning him of an unseen presence. It seemed unlike him, but he held tight to Crowe, whimpering about how he felt someone.

The werewolf felt a bit uncomfortable about this vampire. Crowe seemed like more of a calm collected vampire, while this one, Rowan, seemed a bit more open minded, like someone who didn't really care what others thought. This, among other things, was begining to get to the blonde, causeing him to press up against his master for reassurance. He seemed a bit too much like a puppy, his green eyes darting here and there, and once or twice he thought he heard himself whimper.

"Crowe.. who is he?"

Poor Damien felt like curling into a little ball, something about the way this man held himself was upseting him, though it didn't show, he was almost certain that he could read his thoughts. Crowe's arm made a lot of his uncertainty fade away, letting a soft smile form across his cold lips as he attempted to start a conversation.

Ever since he could remember, he was horrible with people, and working at a bar since he was barely 15 made his apprehension all the worse, so when confronted with a new face, he froze, unable to form many if any words at all. This is how it had been when he first met Crowe, he just stood behind the bar, his green eyes gazing unsteadily at the mans. He never felt scared of Crowe, he just never knew exactly what to say to him.
Though he got over his shyness and often spoke to the vampire, even if nothing was said back. Thinking back on it now, he may not have spoken directly to him, which may have explained the long silence between the two.

"So, Rowan... what exactly should I know about your people?"

Damien silenced himself, picking up on the unsettling feeling coming from the driver. He had thought that they would have told him by now, or that the poor thing would have realized on his own. If that was the case, he was in denial.

Anyway, the werewolf was now very quiet, almost like an inanimate object. He seemed more or less like a maniquin, lifeless and cold. He didn't mean to, but with the sudden events that had taken him far away from anything that he had ever been close to, he felt suddenly out of place, and being in the company of two elder vampires didn't make the situation any better, though being close to Crowe made his heart beat hard inside his chest, making his cheeks flush pink. "Hmmm...."