A shadowy figure made his way through the trees and shrubs of Cedarwood Park not really looking for anything but rather wanting something, anything to happen, his boredom level had reached its peak in the past few nights and he couldn't take it any longer. A stroll through a somewhat deserted park was just what Benedict was looking for. With a sigh he continued to walk an unbeaten path through the park looking from the ground to the trees and finally to the night sky where only the face of a full moon and a few stars were visible.

"To find such beauty in an untouchable space." Ben sighed; he sensed something at his feet and looked down to see a dying baby bird, "Bummer," was all he could muster for the pathetic creature. Picking it up gently he stroked it and looked it over, its leg was broken and it had shallow breathing, "I'll put you out of your misery and never forget you," this was what he usually said when he did something for someone or something in pain. With one quick snap of the tiny bird’s neck there was no more suffering and Ben threw it into a bush. He had respect for the bird but recognized that holding value on a corpse was somewhat foolish, so he didn't feel bad about tossing it aside.

Continuing to walk he thought back to his wardrobe and wondered if he had chosen the right getup for a hunt. He wore a rag-like Metallica t-shirt, a pair of faded black jeans with holes in the knees, his worn out anarchy sneakers and his zip up Led Zeplin hoodie. He had forgotten his hat at his haven and his black hair was messy but cute in a way with how it hung around his ears.

Vincent was perched in one of the trees. his knee high boots were resting on a crook in the branches. His character coat was hanging loose around his branch like a pair of wings. His back was resting against the silver bark of the tree. It was a Rowan.

His pipe was locked in his teeth, the contents (tobacco and cannabis) were smouldering gently, sending perfumed smoke out into the cold night air.
It had been too long since he had been in Dematre. A shadow from his past had called. A young vampiress. He had sired her several hundred years before. She was in Norway now, and he'd had to go back to Norway to see her. Violating his oath of exile. That journey had hurt, hurt more than his first voyage to America... But he had survived and here he was. Enjoying the night air and savouring a new batch. It had grown while he had been away, and very nice it was too.

Benedict continued on his stroll quietly before catching scent of pipe smoke coming from a tree not too far from his current position. Suavly not showing discomfort from having noticed a figure in a tree, Benedict walked slowly like he was walking toward it but walked under the tree at the last second. Catching a quick sight of the person in the tree and almost instantly realized that he was of the vampire persuasion.

Stopping but a few more yards along, Benedict climbed a tree himself and continued on looking at the man, at the same time making his way silently through the limbs of his tree and nearby trees to get closer. Wonder when he got there,... I didn't notice him before.