[ Astarion can hear his prey scrambling away and already, he is righting himself, swallowing the disgust and pain, preparing for another attack. Yet, when he turns his sights back on the tiefling, his quarry is already staring at him, eyes wide. 'Astarion?' he says.
Beneath the bloodlust, Astarion feels the tiniest flash of recognition. He... knows this person, doesn't he? They've met before. For a moment, the fury in his expression falters, confusion flickering over his features as he tries, unsuccessfully, to follow that thread back out—but it burns away in his hands like twine in a fire. That murderous instinct slams back into place and his expression twists once more into a predatory snarl.
Without a word, he'll advance at Molly again, fangs bared. ]
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Beneath the bloodlust, Astarion feels the tiniest flash of recognition. He... knows this person, doesn't he? They've met before. For a moment, the fury in his expression falters, confusion flickering over his features as he tries, unsuccessfully, to follow that thread back out—but it burns away in his hands like twine in a fire. That murderous instinct slams back into place and his expression twists once more into a predatory snarl.
Without a word, he'll advance at Molly again, fangs bared. ]