Even through wanting to wail in frustration for being hurt and tasting this stale blood, Claudia had to let out a watery laugh at York still needing to take the time in his assault to assure himself that he was inherently a better person. It certainly wasn't her that was supposed to care about his lofty morality. And in all of that arrogance, he lingered? Letting her watch through red tears as he searched around in his pockets, and suggested they were still having a discussion.

There was no way she could put that blue concoction in her body, but that didn't stop her fangs from sharpening in her aggression, and in response she dropped her hands from her nose to hiss viciously as a final warning. Then York was being grabbed by the front of his sweater to be yanked across the stones and thrown against the wall of the stable, to crack him open and paint it that pretty blue.