"Blood in wine?" The idea sounded so strange that Jonathan had to wonder how there would ever be a tradition for such a thing. Regardless, it didn't matter, he already knew the answer.

"No. It... has to be fresh. From a living creature. My body rejects anything else now." Jonathan turned away, raking his fingers through his beard and taking a small step back as the sunlight threatened to spill through the window onto him.

"I don't feed on humans," he repeated. "I usually hunt small creatures when I need to. I'm certain I can manage here as well and I don't intend to upset or frighten anyone with the knowledge of what I am."

The implication was, of course, that he wouldn't have told Allairavar given the chance. "But I cannot train in the sunlight. I hope you understand."