She was just leaving the strip joint hole in the wall that the divorced population of Bayfield migrates too in order to make up for lost ...er... pleassures.

She walked with a bounce in her step, like the music was still with her, pushing out the back door of the strip joint and down the short ally to the street. Small, thin, and while her breasts were lush enough, and her body was toned and complete, and despite the way she had her hair cut to make her look older, she was obviously too young to even be admitted into the club, let alone a dancer.

Her bright, bright green eyes with the dark make up around them was to draw and capture attention. Salem’s hair is chopped short and choppy in the back and top. Her bangs, however, are beyond chin length andhang to one side of her face constantly falling in her eyes.

She was dressed in something that might have been warm but might have been cold. Fishnet hose was all that covered most of the length of her legs, besides boots that ran to mid-calf and flopped aginst the toned muscle there. A short black skirt with a bit of poof to it covered what was necissary. Her shirt hung off one shoulder, settled on the other, and clung to flattering places, fishnet beneath it, a black tank top on top of that, and the shirt itself was dark green. Her jacket was false fur and hung loose around her , keeping her top part warm and snug. She still moved with the beat and when she moved, things swayed, other things jangled and tinkled.

She wore five different necklaces with a dozen little charms, a charm braclet on one hand, four solid silver braclets that clanked togather on the other, lace fingerless gloves. In one hand was a ring of keys, three keys that jangled, a key ring with a silver cat, a key ring with a plastic cover that had her phone number, incase she lost them, and a long thin tube that was black, if one knew what it was, it was peper spray. A girls got to defend herself somehow.

As soon as darkness had fallen, a child had risen. A child of the night. Hunger had consumed her upon her first awakening, just as it usually did. The child had been enjoying staying with the elder vampire for some time now and had even begun to grow used to his ways of dealing with the bodies upon which they fed every night. So much so that the child had learned to make things a bit easier when she fed by luring her prey closer to where he burned the bodies and fed upon them there. Then she would cover them with branches and such so that no one would see them if they happened to pass by but yet traces would be left so that the elder vampire would know what was hidden and ready to be burned.

Tonight was no exception and the child had fed, not once but twice already. She had left the bodies covered with branches and such so that the bodies could be burned when her elder companion was ready to deal with them. She, herself, would not do it for she held a very deep fear of fire, even though she would sometimes stand back and watch the dancing flames flicker in the night. The dancing flames fascinated her even though she was quite fearful of them, and ever so careful to not get close to them in the least.

As it neared time for the bars and such to close, the child decided to head off in the direction of them for she always found it fun to mess with the minds of the drunks as they stumbled along through the night. She really does have quite the strange sense of humor really. Although, messing with the mind of a drunk really is quite entertaining. Try it some time if you get a chance.

Tonight, the child is wearing a pretty pastel blue dress with ruffles and lace around the arms and the part that comes down to almost her ankles. Upon her feet, she is wearing pastel blue Mary Jane shoes. In her hair, she has pretty ribbons of various shades of blue tied in pretty little bows around her lovely golden curls. Because she had already fed upon two people, her skin had a lovely pinkish flush to it. That was a good thing, too. It meant she wasn’t walking around looking sickly and such with pale skin.

She was standing in the shadows, just waiting for the drunks to begin stumbling out of the bars when the sound of jingling caught her attention. It wasn’t the sound of a drunkard walking along, but yet the person had obviously left the club that was one of the ones that she was waiting for drunks to leave. Staying in the shadows, the child moved to follow the girl for a little bit before slinking around to where she was walking backwards almost in front of the girl.

“You’re far too pretty to be in such a place,” came a childish voice from the shadows. The child finally allowed herself to step out of the shadows and was still walking backwards in front of the girl. “Why would someone as pretty as you be in such a filthy place like that?”

Pastel blue and pretty blonde endeared her heart almost immediatly. Someone treassured this baby. Salem kept walking while the child walked backwards. She balanced along the middle of the road, her booted feet walked on the line of yellow deviding the street, her arms up in the fashion of someone keeping their balance. She smiled that geneticly pretty smile and brushed bangs out of her eye with her fingertips.

"Thankyou, sweetheart." The voice is as sweet as the smiled. Why? Because it made her money no where else could earn her and no one else would give her. She stopped balancing acros the line and stopped walking. She couldn't tell a child that! "Because I like to dance."

Her frown didn't take much of the softness away from her face. The dark eyebrows curved just a little over the very green eyes and dark makeup. She dropped her hands to her sides before squating down, knees and calves togather so she flashed as little amount of underwear and everything else, folding her arms around her legs and resting her upper body along her thighs and her butt on her heels. It's as lady like as you can get when you dress so skimpy. And it brought her to just a little lower then eye level to the girl.

"Your very pretty too. But why would someone as pretty as you be in a filthy place like this? Wheres your mummy and daddy?"

The child didn’t stumble at all while she walked backwards in front of the pretty girl. The child only looks to be about eight years old at most. She could possibly be younger, according to her looks, because she’s actually smaller than most eight year olds of this time and age. The child couldn’t help but smile in return to the pretty girls smile. Don’t worry though. Her fangs are entirely out of sight. There isn’t even a single trace of blood around, or on, her mouth from having fed tonight.

Any other time, the child wouldn’t have hesitated to take this opportunity to lead the girl away and feed on her. Especially after the girl squatted down to eye level with her. However, there was something about this girl that the child found interesting. Interesting enough to not want to kill her. The child wasn’t sure what it was about the girl yet, though, that made her not want to kill her like she usually did with everyone else.

“You’re pretty enough that I bet you could surely find somewhere cleaner and classier than this to dance in,” the child answered, letting her gaze drift back towards the strip club briefly. She didn’t let her gaze linger there long though, and returned it to the squatting girl in front of her.

“I’m just out for a walk,” she answered with a smile. Where was her mommy and daddy? “My parents are...” She paused for a moment. How was she going to answer this one? “Sleeping.” In a strange sort of way, it was true. Except, they wouldn’t be waking up... ever. They were sleeping for eternity. The child didn’t say anything about that though. “I always go for walks while they’re sleeping. It’s too pretty at night to not want to go for a walk. Where are your mommy and daddy?”

Classier? When was the last time she'd heard that word from a man or woman, let along from an eight or nine year old girl? The quirk of her eyebrow and the mildly imrpessed look said it all for her.

Actually, no one will hire me, [i]she could have said, [i]I'm too young to be doing this. But she didn't say that, instead she managed to look thoughtful and say "maybe."

Another frown lowered her eyebrows and her smile finally faded. "Well, do your parents know where you are?" Of course they do. Otherwise that would mean they wereneglectful. And such a pretty dress and a healthy little girl, surely, couldn't have come from a neglectful family. Right? Or the child had wondered off.

"You shouldn't be walking in this sort of place, sweet. It's...There isn't anything beautiful about it. You could get kidnapped." Or worse. She shivered at the thought and then again at the memory.

"My mom and...My dad went away and my mommy is an angel now." She tugged one of the many jangling things out of her shirt from a long thin chain. A heart-shaped locket that probably cost five dollars and had the words 'my baby' scrolled across the front. She pried it open to show a faded picture of a pretty young woman, the only blenish on her was a bruise on her cheek. "See?"

The child didn’t realize that she spoke in ways that not even adults spoke these days. That was one of the problems with being so old and having not been taught as the times changed. Would she have taken to being taught to change with the times so easily? Probably. Even though she was old, she still has the mind of a child in a lot of ways. And she soaks things up fairly easily as well. Look at how she finally took to what Loki had shown her about what to do with her victims.

She got a thoughtful look on her face for a few moments. Did her parents know where she was? That was a tough one to answer without giving away both that they were dead and what she was. Well, perhaps letting it be known that they were dead wouldn’t be all bad. “I don’t know if they do or not,” she finally answered. “They went to sleep a long time ago. The one I live with knows that I am out here though.”

The child smiled slightly. “It’s okay. The drunks are too stupid to think about trying to kidnap me. They have a hard enough time trying to remember where they are going, much less taking a little girl with them.” She sounded so sure of herself.

The child moved closer to the girl so that she could see the picture in the locket. Baby blue eyes lifted from the picture to the girls face. “She has a bruise on her face...” How observant. “How come?” Curious child. “What’s your name?” Another sign that the child isn't going to fed upon the girl... She's asked for the girls name. She never asks for the name of her victims.

”I see. Who do you live with now, sweet?” Did they know where the child was? Out here was a very vast and general way of putting it. And very wise for a child. Was her father a drunk? Or maybe the one she’s living with now, was he a drunk? Was this how she knew about them. “Yes, sweetheart but not everyone is drunk. And not everyone is kind.” She’s had some hard times, with drunks and with men who were sober, as a child and as a … almost adult.

Her smile didn’t fade away upon mention of the bruise because she’d grown used to seeing her mother with a bruise. She and her mother had often had dark spots on their skin. It was easy for her to hide as a child, nothing I fell down on the park. But her mother had more trouble.

“Because my dad wasn’t a very nice man. If my mom or I did something wrong he punished us.” She closed the locket and dropped it back inside her shirt. Curious child, but most children are, aren’t they? “Salem,” she smiled. “Salem Griffith. What’s your name?” I think Salem would be thankful the child didn’t plan on making her a midnight munchy.

The child got an even wider grin on her face. “I live with Loki.” She said his name almost as if the girl should have known who the man was. But of course the girl wouldn’t. Not unless she made it a habit to hang out with ancient vampires anyway. “He was really nice to take me in like he did. I’m only staying with him for a while though. I’m still searching for Father. I don’t know where he went. I’m sure he didn’t mean to leave me behind like he did. I’m sure I’ll find him soon.” Yes. The child was still set on finding the one who had sired her.

Her smile faded and turned into a frown as she listened to the girl talking about her dad not being a nice man. “He punished you? By leaving bruises? That’s just wrong.” Her voice was so matter-of-fact as she spoke. “Guys aren’t supposed to hit girls. Dads aren’t supposed to hit moms. That’s not right.” It’s probably a good thing that the child would probably never meet the girls father. The vampire child just might make a meal of him if she ever did. Teach him a lesson is what her mind would be telling her at that moment in time.

“It’s very nice to know your name, Salem,” she said with her smile finally returning. “I’m Muirne.” She didn’t give a last name though. It had been so long since she had used a last name that she honestly couldn’t really remember it. It would take her too long to have to think about it, so she just didn’t give it. Besides, it would probably be too easy to look it up somewhere and find out that her family had died a very long, long time ago and that she, technically, should be buried somewhere in a grave as well.

“Where are you going? Are you going home?” the child asked curiously. “Can I walk with you part way or something?”

"Loki what?" She'll just have to look Loki up in the phone book and have a word with him about where he was letting this little girl wonder around at alone. Or maybe she wouldn't...but she should. She wouldn't want to impose on the way someone raised their child...or forster child.

"No," her voice was soft. "Daddies aren't suposed to his mommies. That's why he's gone away." Where to she neither knew nor cared. A frown appreaded again. "I thought your...." She shook her head and pressed three fingers to her temple. Children were curious, yes, and sweet, but they were so confusing sometimes. "If your father with your mother, sweetheart? I thought you said they went ... to sleep a long time ago."

The confusion still there and the frown disappearing with a sweet smile. "Well it's very nice to know your name too, Muirne. It's a very pretty name." She looked around. There were several drunks loitering nearby, leering. She looked at Muirne again. "Yes, I'm going home but how about I walk you home instead?" She stood up again, short skirt straightening itself out, and held out her hand. Chewed back nails but beautiful hands. Her fathers hands.

Loki what? Muirne did not know Loki’s last name. Even if she did though, she probably would opted to not give it out just because of what they are. “I don’t know his last name,” she answered truthfully. “I never asked. I was too happy to have someone to stay with while I look for Father to think about it.” What made this entire situation funny was that Loki was probably out in the middle of the night as well, doing whatever it was that he did after he fed.

Yes, children were indeed quite confusing sometimes. Especially when one of those children was a two hundred and five year old stuck in a very small eight year old body that could pass for being even younger than that. “My daddy went to sleep with my mommy a long time ago. But my Father did not. Father is not my daddy. Father is my... well... he’s my... Father. Not biologically related if that is what you are thinking.” What a big word for such a youngster.

Muirne readily took Salem’s hand but she frowned slightly at the suggestion of Salem walking her home instead. “I don’t think Loki would approve of me showing anyone where he lives,” she answered. “So I’m going to have to decline the offer to walk me home.”

She didn't even know her foster fathers last name? Well, something was certainly wrong here. But how many Loki's could honestly be in the phone book? Was Loki even his name? What was he doing with an eight year old girl without telling her his last name, and letting her wander around alone like this. There were just too many not rights. Or maybe she should call the police. Salem never really liked the police, they scared her.

Not biological. So she's had a step father before this Loki that just disappeared? That she can't find? Salem's immagination ran wild almost immediatly. What if this Loki character, as secretive as he sounded, got rid of her other fostor father? And to take it a step further, what if he'd gotten rid of her parents too? What did he want with a cute little girl?

Salem felt terror creeping through her down into her fingers and she held the child's hand with a feather light touch but a firm enough grip. "Like Jerry," she whispered, then smiled. "I had a father that wasn't mine. When my dad went away and my mom died, Jerry took care of me." She said that mostly to be talking. She started to walk down the street when one of the men leered. They had to get away from them. If you stayed too long, the drunk got cocky. "Alright then, how about you come over to my house and we'll get some hot chocolate," it was freezing out here. And that would give her time to think.

Poor Salem. The girl certainly had one crazy imagination, that’s for sure. Of course, the things that she was coming up with in her own mind were certainly more believable than if Muirne were to come right out and say ‘hey, guess what? I’m a vampire.’ Obviously, the child was not at all about to do that. Surely it would probably end up scaring the hell out of poor Salem.

Muirne felt the terror radiating off of Salem and was confused by it. Being the curious child that she was, she just had to ask. “What’s wrong? You seem scared about something. What is it?” Such a sweet, curious child, no?

Muirne started walking when Salem did. Since Salem was holding her hand, she acted like she didn’t have much choice in the matter. “Um... Okay. I’ll go over to your house but I have to leave and be home before morning,” she answered.

Morning? Is she kidding? That Loki lets her stay out all night! When does the child sleep! And if she sleeps all day, when does she go to school! This man seriously needed reported.

“The world,” she commented under her breath before answer the child out loud. Though, since she’s dealing with a vampire it probably didn’t matter that it was spoken under her breath. “It’s cold and men like that,” she nodded to those that had been leering at her, “aren’t safe. That’s why it’s a bad idea to be out here so late.” They were walking now, Salem leading her down the street and turning one corner. It’s convinent that she lives close to the club.

“Well, when the time comes I’ll walk you home too. Here,” she had removed her jacket and draped it over Muirne. It was freezing and the girl wasn’t wearing a jacket. She herself wasn’t wearing much at all. The shirt was green, great with her eyes, and thin, draping beautifully but revealing a lot of skin. But the child could catch a death out here.