[He’s not wrong. Daria’s thirst for blood is ravenous at the worst of time, peckish at best. She knew that. She knew that very well about herself.

Eyeing the gentleman again, his eye was replaced with a glass fake and his stance was ever so strong, he was defending his very spirit. Even if this dream showcased taking a deal that could very well destroy him. It might yet. But yet, there was something inside of her that had been sparking lately. After seeing her own dreams tear her apart, she wondered why she cared so much about her life as a vampire being like it was.

It was enough questioning that led her to look at Wyll with a glance that, at the very least, seemed like it acknowledged his words.]

Yet you don’t know me, or what I’ve done. You don’t even have a name.

For all you know, I was a worse monster alive than I am undead.

[She kept her distance still but she craned her neck forward and showcased her teeth.]

I made my choices, just like you did. I’m not free of consequence for that either. All I have are the fangs and the hunger. But I’m still me, living out my decisions.