This was a smart witch, and Dennis reconsidered his quarry. Perhaps he'd have to be a little smarter about getting to her. Perhaps he would need to do as Jander said, and toy with her for a bit.
He kept the cowed look on his face, making sure to look like the grateful victim. In a way, he was, as if she chose to kick him out right at this minute, he'd literally be toast.
His hand was shaking as he took the proffered glass - the smell of fresh blood was in his nostrils, even if it wasn't coming from what was in the glass. He took a sip. It was ghastly cold, but not stale. He likened it to drinking coffee that had gone cold. Drinkable, but certainly not at all like the experience of fresh blood straight from a vein.
The blood did calm him a little. "Thank... thank you," he said as he sat in the chair. Even though the blood was cold, he tasted something in it. He flicked his gaze to her, and then back to the glass. "That's your blood."
He said it as a statement rather than a question. "'Choo run the clinic and 'choo give them werewolves your own blood?"