Stealth and cleverness. Two qualities that are downright helpful to a vampire. Though, not Ronin, as he was still sauntering around in public, accepting the strange, startled looks that he was receiving, just happy that his sword was properly hidden by his cloak. To go out without it made him feel utterly naked, but to carry it around in plain sight would induce even more fear in the people he was passing.

After buying the plushie, he had managed to scrape up only enough money to buy a turkey sandwich, and was thouroghly regretting his decision to get it, as his stomach continued to protest at the lack of nutrients in it. If he could get some blood, he resolved, he could hold off his hunger for another few days—not that sitting around and waiting would bring him more money, but perhaps he could catch some fish.

Yes. Blood. He'd been away from civilization for so long that he was practically starving for the stuff. But the part of the small town that he was wandering was still all lit up and as crowded as a place with such a small population could be, so he turned back in the direction of the forest, deciding to catch one of the out-of-the-way houses on his way back to the cave that he had set up camp in earlier. It wasn't particularly late, but he wasn't particularly awake either, and figured that a few more hours of sleep before sunrise could only help him.

As he moved, his bag hitting against his back with every stride, reminding him of the stuffed animal that his supposedly hard heart had goaded him into buying, the town gradually thinned out. But all of the homes out that way were small, with a shabby appearance, and every time he found one between the trees and began to walk up whatever driveway they had, he would stop halfway, thinking for sure that he simply couldn't bring himself to go into such a poor home to thieve away anything, least of all blood. Thus, he would march grimly on to the next one, where he would repeat the process.

Finally, when he was about ready to give up hope, he found a big, old house hiding between trees on three sides. It was ancient, and nearly as shabby as the others, but its size was enough to convince Ronin that he really, really needed blood. So, heading up the drive, he took note of a screenless open window right on the house's porch.

--

Coincidentally, stealth and cleverness are also helpful to a small girl who likes to sneak around at night, exploring the attic and the fridge. And she was putting them to use.

With soft feet, Toklata angled up the stairs that led to the attic. She loved the things she found up there, for no reason in particular. It was also so peaceful at night. No one fighting, no one-

"Damn!"

Toklata put her small hand to her lips, surprised at the thin, hissed curse and the small thunk that had come slightly before it. Since she was often up in the serene night, she picked up on lots of small sounds, such as the scuffles of mice living in her walls.

But mice didn't swear.

Mice didn't even talk politely.

Mice squeaked, she knew this as a fact.

Quietly, slyly, she crept back down the polished wooden stairs, thankful that they didn't have a tendency to squeak, like the ones in the movies, and peeked around the wall at the bottom of the steps, seeing a dark cloaked figure kneeling on the ground and picking something up. Rather pathetically. She felt her eyes widen and a smile spread across her face. There was no mistaking that gleaming black hair, the black boots, the long cloak, and the sword handle that was poking slightly from inside of it.

"Ronin!" she hissed happily, but still quietly enough not to wake her mother. Much to her dismay, he didn't seem surprised. No, he didn't even turn around to face her. "Mister Ronin?"

"I heard you, girl," he snapped, cursing his horrible, horrible luck. "Honestly though, you're pretty quiet for a human. What in the world has you up at this time?"

"What are you doing in my house?"

"You wouldn't believe that I'm Santa Clause, would you?"

"It's not even Christmas."

Ronin picked up the chair he had knocked over and crossed his arms over his chest indignantly. Without a good explanation, there was nothing left to tell her but the truth. She honestly wasn't as stupid as she looked. "I asked you first," was the best he could come up with.

Toklata pouted a bit, also crossing her arms, and said, "I like the night. It's quiet and I can usually see good by the light of the moon."

"Well. You should say 'I can see well by the light of the moon.'"

She let out an odd, small sigh, as if insulted, and then asked, "How old are you?"

He felt his eyebrow twitched at her randomness. "A true lady never asks a man's age."

Her eyes narrowed visibly. "Isn't that supposed to be the other way around?"

"Damn you with your annoying questions," he barked, but still in a hushed voice. "I thought I'd finally gotten rid of you earlier."

As soon as he said it, he knew it was a mistake. Her eyes, those puppy-ish turquoise things, dimmed and her smile faded away. She lowered her head to stare at the ground.

"Oh, girl, don't cry." But his voice didn't come out quite as softly as he had wanted it to, and he had sounded like he was scolding her. This made her even more upset.

"My mama said something almost like that earlier," she explained sourly, a painful grin coming back over her lips now. "Seems I'm really good for nothing."

Ronin sighed, remembering his own wretched human family. "I…I'm sorry, gir—Toklata," he sighed, kneeling down to see her better. "You're the first person I've come across in a while who's willing to talk with me without making death threats, so I should be grateful." With that, he pulled off the small sack that hung over his shoulders and onto his back, and rummaged through it, finally grasping the cheap, scruffy stuffed puppy. "Look. See, I was thinking about you. I got this for you."

She took it slowly and wiped her eyes, smiling genuinely again and rubbing it's soft fabric on her cheek.

"Now, you should be in bed. Yes?"

"But why--"

"I'm not going to rob you, I promise," he laughed, turning her around and ruffling her hair. "See, I'm just really poor, and I thought I'd sneak in for a drink."

Without further protest, she began to sneak in the direction of what Ronin assumed was her room, mumbling a dejected, "Thank you," as she rubbed her eyes. He smiled too.

Not the usual arrogant grin. No, this was a real smile.