Deryn had made a mistake.

That at least was obvious. They weren't allowed to drink fresh blood, feeding from a human was the highest offense a legal undead such as herself could commit. But there were other complications that Deryn needed to sort out as well.

For one she had no idea who this boy was. He wasn't one of theirs, the boy was quite obviously human. That Deryn knew by the pulse she could hear in his throat, and the terror her heightened senses could smell on him a mile away. There was also the fact that his blood was currently coursing through Deryn's own body, as rejuvenating and pleasant as a cup of tea.

And that was another thing. His blood, Deryn noticed, felt a lot more invigorating then her usual dosage. That wasn't a mystery either. Deryn had blacked out before crashing, or 'run out of spunk' as her peers like to say. Deryn had never been daft enough to miss a feeding before today and supposedly the first after being revived felt better then the daily allotment. That wasn't a problem, Deryn shouldn't focus on that at the moment.

She pushed the euphoria out of her mind to consider more pressing matters.

The boy looked reasonably shaken by this whole ordeal. From clothes Deryn would have to say he was some sort of smuggler's son, likely having come here to see if he could loot anything from the wreckage. The thought made Deryn smirk, served him right for trying to rob a dead soldier. But still, if he was someone as lowly as a looter he likely had no idea what in blazes had just happened to him. Though of the London Epidemic of 1890 was famous amongst Darwinist powers Deryn remembered they had been flying over neutral territory before the crash. It was very possible that word hadn't spread to this corner of the world yet. Deryn knew from personal experience that being bitten was something akin to a nightmare, even knowing full well what was going on.

Thankfully he seemed to stunned to scream or escape, only stare up at her like she was something monstrous. Which in all fairness was an accurate description of the truth. Still, couldn't have a terrified human running about, especially if he went to warn his village.

"Sorry about that," she said politely, "A bit rude of me, I'll admit."

Even as she laughed she didn't take her eyes off him, prepared to pounce if he tried to get away. But for now at least she tried to be friendly. Her words seemed to snap the boy out of his trance. He tried to scramble back, arms and legs sinking into the snow.

"Wait!," Deryn cried, "It was just a little mistake! I'm not going hurt you- here, let me help you up."

"Stay back!" He cried, holding up that pitiful little knife he had cut himself on.

Frozen in her tracks Deryn inspected the blade and tried not to laugh. She'd find a sharper edge on her own fingernail! Putting up her hands in surrender, Deryn tried again.

"Alright. I'll just stay over here and you over there and we'll talk aye?"

"I will not negotiate with an abomination."

Deryn's patience was beginning to wear thin. Still, she was going to remain respectful. This conversation could well shape how negotiations between her crew and the nearest village won out.

"I'm not an abomination," she said calmly, "I'm a "Legal Undead". That means that in the eyes of the King and Parliament I am just as much a person as you. And people usually don't take kindly to insults."

This explanation seemed to only drain his face of more color, if that was at all possible.

"Legal Undead?" he repeated, "You're one of those blood-sucking monstrosities from London!"

"Aye, but the term 'blood-sucking monstrosity' isn't entirely necessary," she said, "No need to feed into the stigma."

The boy barked out a something between a howl of pain and a peel of laughter.

"Stigma?" he shouted, "You're covered in my blood!"

Deryn opened her mouth to shoot a rebuttal but found none. He had a point.

"I said I was sorry," She muttered, then shook her head.

Had the living always been so barking unreasonable? Deryn hoped she hadn't been. But then, she was probably the first legal undead the boy had ever met, unlike Deryn who grew up surrounded by them. He didn't know that her attacking him was not normal or acceptable behavior, didn't know that Deryn stood to be staked for it. A sudden unpleasant thought occurred to her. If she didn't win the boy over, he'd tell the officers she had bitten him.

"Lets just calm down and start over," Deryn said carefully, "My name-"

"I don't care what your name is-"

"-is Dylan. Dylan Sharp. I'm a legal undead serving aboard this ship. I didn't mean to jump you, but that's what happens when someone like me goes without feeding for too long."

She pointed up at the Leviathan, "I blacked out in the crash, and where I come from people with any sense don't approach a blacked out undead. So really, if you think about it, this is just as much your fault as it is mine."

This seemed to calm him some, in that he no longer cowered in fear but instead looked at her like she was utterly mad.

"Excuse me?"

"Look," Deryn said, "You don't understand how I work and the last time I spoke to someone like you was…blisters years ago. So how about we both try to be a bit more understanding of the other's situation and-"

He was running away now. Barking brilliant.

Deryn only meant to close the distance and take hold of his shoulder, but found her body moving faster then usual. Unused to this new speed and force she collided with the boy and pinned him once again to the ice. He kicked and struggled with all the force he could muster, but Deryn couldn't tell if he was actually this weak or she was still riding the high of fresh blood.

Either way, talking it out hadn't proven effective.

Deryn forcefully yanked the boy onto his back and gripped his chin so he had to look at her. Now that she wasn't blinded by bloodlust, Deryn saw that he had rather nice eyes. They were green and deep, and unlike her own or any soldier's aboard the Leviathan, had a flicker of life dancing in them. Although right now that life seemed a bit distracted to dance, choosing instead to quiver with terror.

That wasn't a problem, Deryn could put a stop to that. Or at least she hoped she could, the last time Deryn had tried was ten years ago. She blinked slowly, hoping that when her lids parted he would be blind and deaf to all the world. Just as he had done before, the boy stopped struggling. The look of absolute submission he gave her reminded Deryn with a jolt how his blood had tasted, but she pushed that thought away irritably.

"That's better, isn't it?" she asked, and smiled sadly as he nodded dumbly.

"Alright, how about you tell me your name?"

"Alek…" he mumbled.

"Its nice to meet you Alek," Deryn said, "I'm afraid you wont remember this, but you can introduce yourself again."

She grimaced.

"I really am very sorry. But you can't tell the officers I nipped you, alright?"

Alek didn't respond to this, but she hadn't expected him to. Even back when she first experimented with her Mesmer she could never make commands carry out of the trance. That was alright though, at least she had the time to clean him off.

With only snow that she had to use carefully so as not to freeze him, Deryn managed to wipe all the blood off his skin and hands. There was nothing she could do about the two tiny pinpricks where her fangs had pierced him, but he was wearing a scarf so she wrapped it deliberately about his neck. It was lucky his clothes were black and brown, even though she could see in the dark Deryn was unable to notice where the blood had stained him. The only thing left to worry about was the smell, but Deryn knew that everyone would be too distracted by his heartbeat to care much about that. Even Mesmerized Deryn could feel his pulse thudding in her ears as if he were beating her upside the head with drumsticks.

Deryn commanded Alek to rise and follow her out of the ditch they landed in.