II

The rabbits were a good find, he decided. Even though they had put up a surprising but inevitably losing fight, Gaara had drunk enough blood to keep him satiated for another week. At least, if he didn't meet another of those damn vampire hunters. It was really a waste of energy since Gaara had no intention of losing his life that easily. He couldn't imagine why said hunters were so eager to lose theirs.

Sometimes, being the only vampire left in this side of the mountains had its drawbacks.

He licked the last drop from his fingers before pausing to listen. The faint cries, crackles and stomps coming from the eastern side of the forest were getting nearer. 'A hunt?' he thought, 'There's no reason for them to hunt unless...' For a moment he considered the chances of one of his kin returning- abandoning the idea almost as fast as it came to him. No sane vampire would stay in this side of the mountains, or in the same country for that matter, while the trend for 'ridding the world of evil creatures' was still rampant. He was only here because…

Gaara shook his head as another one of his headaches started. Now wasn't the time to think about what already happened. It wasn't good to dwell on it either. He clutched at his forehead until the pain subsided. At times like these he really wished he could kill his father if only to get justice for botching an already extremely dangerous curse, not to mention for casting it on him in the first place. When his head finally stopped throbbing, Gaara straightened up and brought his focus back on the present.

If there really was a hunt going on, then it might be a hunt for him. Maybe the villagers finally decided to continue the work of their forefathers or maybe they were simply tired of having a real reason to stay in at night. Whatever the reason, Gaara knew that they couldn't be hunting a mere deer. He drew the tattered charcoal gray cloak around him before leaping into the trees.

The humans need to be reminded just who the predator was.

'Mob' would be the last thing to call the motley group of people huddled together in a clearing. The apparent leader of the group was still dressed in his woodcutter's tunic and pants, having been convinced by those misleading tales about wolves eating grandmothers that only he could 'rid the village of the menace'.

Brandishing an axe and a torch, the burly woodcutter walked through the forest with the air of one who is doing a very stupid but noble deed- which no intelligent person would even think about doing. The rest of the villagers shuffled after him, near enough to assure their support but far enough to run for it if the hunters became the hunted.

Gaara watched them from his perch. One good thing about the relocation of the village was that this part of the forest thrived once the trees were left to grow without having the pre-destined future of lumber. With the density of the woods, there were many places for him to hide with a clear view of his surroundings.

He pondered over the indignant cries and muttered curses the humans were making as he followed their progress into even deeper wood. Apparently something had caused a commotion in the village and escaped into the forest. Something that was smart enough to be away from the area since he couldn't sense anything in the vicinity. A part of him was just a little disappointed that he wasn't the reason for their commotion while another part of him, a wilder and innate one was awakening in anger at the possible breach of his territory.

Deciding to deal with that later on, Gaara randomly picked one of the men then darted out of the shadows to haul him back into the trees in a series of hisses and pained cries. As expected, the rest of the men went into a flurry of thrown torches and arms flailing against each other. The terrified man he had in his arms croaked once as Gaara drained his blood.

He eased the man on the ground and licked his fingers clean. There, that would prevent any vampire hunt for another decade or so.

Gaara frowned. The blood he drank was metallic and salty, but for some reason it tasted different from the way he remembered it to be. Just a little bitter with an aftertaste of yeast. Before he could dwell on his observations, a loud cracking alerted him of another's presence behind him. He whirled around and hissed angrily, leaping into the trees with his eyes widening briefly in surprise at the figure before making him way back to his home in a sudden need to be somewhere familiar.

The furry man that had stepped into the clearing, now all by himself, blinked once then uttered a low mangled growl. "Rrrrwhat the herrrll?"