[ Astarion takes the laughter as the good sign it is, rather than something to bristle about in his embarrassment. He pulls in a deep breath, smearing some of the trickling blood from the cut he'd made on his wrist with his thumb and resisting the urge to lick it. The wound is already healing, maybe a little faster than normal with the sudden influx of fresh blood in his system. For all the freedoms it's given him, the tadpole hampers his vampiric regeneration abilities for some reason. ]
It did, yes. [ To this he sounds relieved, but after a moment he touches his middle. ] But it's never quite held at bay for long.
[ He does have excellent control. One thing he can bitterly thank his master for, though the methods he wouldn't wish on anyone else. While it may seem like he means the urge itself, it's really the pain that comes with the hunger that he's speaking about. The hook in his belly, the constant gnawing like rats in his middle. ]
no subject
It did, yes. [ To this he sounds relieved, but after a moment he touches his middle. ] But it's never quite held at bay for long.
[ He does have excellent control. One thing he can bitterly thank his master for, though the methods he wouldn't wish on anyone else. While it may seem like he means the urge itself, it's really the pain that comes with the hunger that he's speaking about. The hook in his belly, the constant gnawing like rats in his middle. ]