A low giggle came from her throat, her hands fluttering smoothly around the hard waist of her...companion. The dojo was dark, for Fauve herself had turned off the lights as soon as she'd entered the room. It didn't take much to seduce a mortal man. His hands were rougher, though doubtlessly he had meant for them to be massaging. She rolled into his touches with little purrs, although grimacing inwardly. Her lips met his shoulder, and she could feel a slight pulse. She leaned up, tolerating the graceless kisses of his, seeming shy and demur as it appeared he took over.

With an unseen shift of her weight, she tilted, fitting nicely against him. She touched her lips against his throat, kissing it once, twice...
Then she took hold, much like a wolf would a deer, or any other predetor. She bit down, and blood pooled for a moment before dripping past her lips. She released him slightly, and the dripping quickened. Letting go a little more, it became a flow.
Kissing away the blood as it came, she let it linger on her mouth, some flowing down the man's collar before she could catch it. The tear at his throat was tattered and thick, but its bleeding was begining to die. She'd been to hasty, prehaps. She hadn't thought it over. He had died before she could get enough, and now his blood became cold before she could drink it. She let the man fall, blood that she had refused to drink more of spilling on the carpet. It became a wide pool under Fauve's black high-heels before settling into the floor, giving the area around her victim a sponge-like feel as she stepped away, unwarily leaving bloody footprints behind her.

Fauve's hair coiled at the ends, falling around her face and shoulders in a way that set off her facial features. She was an erotic image, draped in black silks and silver jewelery as she shyly looked around, as if embarrassed by being out in something so revealing. She walked without sway in her strappy black heels, moving like a lioness as she took a moment to lean against the wall and rest. Outside, streetlights bore down on the streets with hard brightness, and she'd do anything to rest here longer, and avoid the inconvienience. Unfortunatley, a restlessness stirred her, and Fauve found herself vainly smoothing her dress and toying with her glossy tresses.
She could faintly feel something in the air, but, lost in perfecting herself, she let the feeling pass. She found she was fuller than she had first believed, and had to breath deeply to get used to a full system. It'd beena week and a half. She'd tried so hard to go without blood longer than that. Fauve looked down at her slender waste and grimaced, feeling the weight of her "imperfection". She cursed at herself and continued smoothing out her dress to busy her mind. It wasn;t like she could throw the blood back up.