[The Shelter might ordinarily offer a safe retreat from the daylight hours, but today, there are too many people. D wishes to find an isolated corner, or perhaps even the security of a cell, if it can be hand. Though his father's blood is roaring in his veins, calling him to drink of the living, this is not the first time D has been struck with a gnawing thrist, and it will not be the last. He will feed on himself to quench the need if he must.]