As if a spectral presence, Marc watched from above, a floating, bodiless entity as a dark-haired man snorted from a box that seemed familiar. Probably because I saw some vamp dude sweeping Roderick's ashes into it. With a detached interest, he noted the man's reaction, the way he fell to his knees and struggled to compose himself, as if fighting an inner battle.
Probably allergies given the snort of dust. Or was it something else?
A part of Marc understood he dreamed, yet it didn't detract from the realness of the moment nor the sense of connection he felt toward the vampire who stood and surveyed the area around him, in full control of himself once again and appearing predatory with a glint of red shining in his eyes. The male stripped himself of unneeded items and locked the box in his
