When asked if he were through, Whipper’s smile grew almost inhumanly large and he replied as honestly as he was able, “Well, you see, that’s the trouble with pixies and with myself, I think, in particular; I never know when some preposterous whim is going to shanghai me and have me doing and saying all sorts of wildly inappropriate things.”
He looked the rather dark young lady up and down and used his fae senses…vampire!
Shaking the lady’s hand calmly, Whip raised a pointy eyebrow, “That’s an interesting name…even for a vampire. You should know that pixie blood is deadly to vampires, by the way!” a lie His pointed ears wiggled and he smiled, “I’ve found exactly what I need. I met someone in House Arvandor who baffles me, Miss Tavern.” He fought his pixie nature and didn’t make any jokes on her name, because vampires frankly scared him a bit…almost as much a pixie-eating ogres. He continued, “A lad named Anton, who, I’m sure, doesn’t know what he is! I think I’ve narrowed it down to demigod or nephilim”, he showed her the books, “I was going to look through these books and see if I recognized anything.”
Whip found himself staring at Breeze’s lips, wondering about the fangs beneath and what it was like to be bitten and fed on; it gave him a chill, but not necessarily a bad one. He wondered what pixie blood would really do to a vampire.