There is far, far too much blood in the air for Jonathan's liking and it's made exponentially worse by the fact that the strange new arrival seems just as intent on hurting himself as he is his opponent. Each drag of the blade results in more blood in the air and despite the fact his injury is nothing for his kind, Jonathan remains on the ground, his hand clamped over his own wound and breathing raggedly through his nose, his jaw tight as he tries to resist the instincts to attack and feed.

Then the man is in front of him and the smell is overpowering, so much so that his senses blur and fade until Jonathan is only aware of the sound of a heartbeat and the smell of blood so close, and the pained sound he makes has nothing to do with the dagger being yanked free and the gout of blood that follows.

"Get- get away," Jonathan manages, and he can feel his fangs lengthening, his body so focused on the tempting target right there. "I can't see..."