The full moon glistened through the branches of aged and decaying trees surrounding him. Casting it's haunting glow, it created a rather intimidating look for any human to enter. Italian leather boots crunched on fallen leaves and twigs as he daintily side stepped pools of water that were scattered throughout the swampy woods. Breathing deeply, he caught the scent of the prey he searched for. A small herd of deer were bedded down in the under brush and needles of a pine tree a few yards away. He had been silent enough that they hadn't discovered his presence yet.
Stefan had tried to hold off the hunger as long as he could, but in the end he had given in and gone hunting. The raw, aching feel of his stomach twisting for nourishment and his body becoming weaker and weaker with every passing hour had become too much. So here he was, hunting for animals in the woods behind the Salvatore boarding house.
He knew that without blood he would quickly weaken to the point of becoming immobile and completely defenseless, so his blood lust wasn't completely useless. However, it was quite irritating and horrifying when it sprung up at the most inopportune times. Like when he was lying next to Elena, and she had her head tilted just the right way for him to see the throbbing vein in her throat that called to him. No, he could never allow himself to hurt her like that. He'd rather kill himself than drink from her like a monster. Better a doe than the woman he loved.
He quickly bolted towards the herd and picked out a fairly sized female. Immediately, this set the deer into a frenzy of movement, all standing up and taking off like bullets. The one that had caught Stefan's attention was quickly trapped in his grasp with a twin set of fangs lodged in it's throat. Kicking and thrashing in it's captor's hands, the doe attempted to save itself. Unfortunately, a small deer was hardly a match against a vampire. It's movement's quickly ceased and the beginnings of death started to take over it's body. Between mouthfuls, Stefan could feel the doe's heart begin to throb slower and slower until shuddering to a stop. In these moments, he always felt a surge of guilt despite his prey not being human. He had destroyed something that had once been alive, taking it's fragile life like a wineglass and throwing it down against a hard floor. This guilt was what separated him from his brother.
At one point in his long life, he had wished for the careless outlook Damon had on life. It would be too easy to not care about his actions and the consequences of them. The idea of himself acting in such a way made him cringe, it was a demented version of himself without morals. Damon held enough hate for the world that he could act that way and feel no guilt, he felt that he deserved retribution for the ills life had bestowed upon him. Stefan, on the other hand, could never hold that much hate for anything.
Hell, he didn't even hate Damon. He was disgusted by his lifestyle and his lack of emotions towards his victims, but he could never hold a deep hatred for his brother. He was too weak and kind for such a thing. In fact, he still felt a longing for things to go back to the way they were between them. Back to the time when Damon wasn't cruel and frigid, and they could have a civil conversation that didn't revolve around bickering and death threats. Before a woman came between them and they were the best of friends, like brothers were supposed to be.
With a startled jump, Stefan realized that he had been kneeling over the dead body of the deer for quite a few minutes. The spidery branches of the pine tree swayed in the wind above him, as he sat down under it's roots, softly running a hand down the animal's body. It was his nature to feel remorse at the sight of the graying eyes of the doe. If God had ever played a more crueler trick, it was to make Stefan Salvatore into something that destroyed objects instead of creating them. He felt the need to write in his journal about his thoughts, his hands cramped whenever the urge came over. Giving the doe's body one more glance and mental apology, he stood up, brushed himself off, and began his short walk back to the boarding house.
Behind him, almost as if watching, the doe's eyes followed his retreating back. The pine tree shook as something unearthly made it quake from the root's it held deep in the ground. Forces that lay untouched for centuries began stirring. Energy that could be called upon if given the right circumstance. They were the same Powers that called unnatural beings to where they split from the earth in cracks and where those cracks intersected each other. Following the source of their awakening, the Powers began setting a change in motion.
In the boarding house, Damon Salvatore sat reading one of the countless books in the library of the house. True, he had read every single one at least three times, but a decade was usually enough to make a book interesting again. A glass of bourbon sat quite close to him on a table. It had been a long night, listening to his brother and Elena talk and do other 'things'. At certain times, Damon would snarl behind his lips and let the glass of bourbon grace his mouth. His idiot of a brother really had no idea how much he thought of killing him sometimes. Then again, he talked about it enough that Stefan might have some sort of an inkling.
Almost like calling upon a devil, there was the sound of someone opening the front door. In a flash, Damon was up and walking toward the sitting room. He was never one to miss out on taunting his brother for whatever reason he could find. Boredom was the usual source behind his antics, however a night like tonight, after having to listen to the two of them, it was from agitation. Tonight's taunting subject seemed to consist of Stefan being unable to control his urge. Damon could smell the blood of a deer wafting from the room already.
"So, had another crack at Bambi, aye brother?", he called out scathingly as he walked through the elegant room. He peered at his brother through the corner of his eye as he sat down in the armchair by the fire.
Stefan looked a little worse for wear. Leafs were tangled in his hair and blood splatters decorated the front of his shirt. Stefan never had been a neat eater like him. Though one could say that Damon had more expertise in the area of feeding, and thus had better tactics in keeping his wardrobe blood-free.
He could hear his brother take a deep breath, steadying himself, before answering. "Yes Damon, I had to feed."
Snorting at Stefan's expense, he retorted, "That's not surprising. You had the best meal you could ask for in your arms an hour ago. God know's she makes my mouth water."
Elena. Her scent delicious, the thought of her blood sliding down his throat had caused quite a few interesting scenes in Damon's interactions with her. Of course, Saint Stefan would never let him lay a finger on her.
"You know I would never drink from her, Damon, it's not an option." Stefan said with a tone of finality, a hint of a snarl on his lips. That was the part of Stefan that Damon always had trouble with. The part that deliberately put down any source of fun.
Damon gave his brother a toothy grin, "I wouldn't say that. It's always an option, you're just too weak to take the bull by the horns." He laughed a little at the squaring of Stefan's shoulders. He was always fun to rouse up, mostly because he made it so easy.
"I'm not weak. I'm just not a monster like you. I love Elena, there's no way I could do something like that, so drop it.", Stefan said darkly. His oak green eyes had turned a shade of black for a moment, showing his anger.
Damon had no problems talking back to his brother. However, there was a slight shift in the air that made him pause. A very thin and almost translucent veil hung over his brother. A quick sniff of the air declared it scent-less as well. Damon narrowed his eyes, letting his Power flow out and collide with this strange thing. He then growled when his energy couldn't pierce it. It was odd, the thing seemed like a dome over his brother's aura, completely impenetrable. However, it wasn't completely solid. Now that he was focusing on it, Damon could feel power pulsing softly off it.
"What the hell are you doing?" Stefan's voice pulled him out of his concentration and his Power pulled back to his being. Still unsettled at not knowing what the presence was, he looked back at his brother with an award-winning poker face.
"Nothing, just checking your Power brother. You're getting a little weak you know.", he smirked, knowing it would piss Stefan off. It worked as he had thought and Stefan shook his head in exasperation before stalking out of the room.
Once he was alone, Damon listened as his brother made his way back to his room. His curiosity was piqued at whatever decided to latch itself onto Stefan. It didn't seem to be sucking energy off him, yet it was emanating Power weakly. Not enough to be alarmed of course, it simply entranced Damon because it wasn't supposed to be there, since it appeared to not originate from Stefan. In order for it to release energy, then it must have a source of energy to dip into. Damon had been a logical man back in the day, and he believed himself to still be one. That logical side realized that there was no way he could solve this mystery without talking to someone else, possibly Stefan himself.
So, driving the thought from his mind, Damon relaxed further into his armchair, grabbed the book he had set down beside him, and resumed reading.