Dennis tried not to swoon at the smell of fresh blood that came to his senses as the door opened. There stood a very pregnant woman. He almost passed out from the thought of such a rich and sweet meal. Instead, he hugged his upper arms, trying to look as pathetic and wretched as possible.
He gripped the rail for support, resisting the most basic of urges to lash out and sink his fangs in her neck. He could feel the pull of the sunlight, and just knew he had to get inside. "Please," he said in a pleading tone. "I know this is a clinic for werewolves, but the sun's almost up..."
"I really, really need a place to stay." He begged, as if pleading for his life (which, in a way, he was.) "I know you've got dark rooms and stuff. I'll sleep all day, and I promise I won't bother anyone."