Roraldi possessed a primitive beauty, something sunset couldn't diminish, but merely enhanced. It wasn't something Abram would normally have noticed, but there were a lot of things he'd been noticing recently that wouldn't have otherwise registered with his practical mindset. The shifting of the forest's song, for instance, as the songbirds were silenced in favor of the wilder calls of the nightlife. It spoke to the wildness in his heart, the predator that lurked so close to the surface.
But he wasn't here as a predator tonight. He hadn't been sent by the demon who'd sired him, nor did the demon have any idea he'd come. It was one of the few times in his life he'd made a decision based on his own desires rather than what orders he'd been given. It was a dangerous move, but one that had to be made nonetheless.