Harth had never really had a playmate before. Minions? Yes. Neophytes? Absolutely. But someone who he could share his activities with? That was new territory.
Not that Harth necessairly considered Cavan to be a "friend." That was far too familiar and loving a term. If the vampire was honest with himself, he knew the time would come when the serial killing boy would outlive his usefulness. However, for the moment, Harth was just tickled he had someone he could use to help him kill as many people as possible.
The boy was currently out doing whatever violence needed to be done, and this lead to Harth to the fair. Naturally, the vampire hadn't come to play parlor games or partake in any of the frivolity in which the humans engaged. He was more interested in seeing how he could turn this environment of fun into a field of fright.
Spotting the Tunnel of Love, Harth felt the creeping notion of a plan. So many humans complained about losing their hearts to love's embrace, it seemed only right that Harth remove some hearts in the tunnel. He was, if anything, a fan of poetic irony.
Slipping into the line, the vampire could hardly contain himself. Despite his excitement, he knew he must wait for the proper opportunity. Killing wasn't just about the spilling of blood, it was about timing. Besides, it would be worth it just to ruin someone's perfect moment by punching a hole through their chest.