This city was like an apiary. So many individual bodies clustering together, fattening their hives with nectar and busying themselves with their work. Tristian had lived in big cities before, but none of them felt quite as industrial or as packed as New York. The near-constant droning of cars and construction and people was enough to drive you mad until you stopped noticing it; such a strange place.
Tristian had found the best way of acquainting oneself with a new city was to explore it. Most of the interesting places he'd been to in this borough were in Midtown and Lower Manhattan, but for balance he'd decided to take a trip through the Upper East Side; it would help wear in his new boots if nothing else. And of course getting there involved crossing through the most touristy parts of town, where the invisible shroud that made him plain and uninteresting to many of the city-dwellers lifted. Visitors could always be relied upon for attention, although the Kindred bestowed none of his own on them. Little kine from simple towns who had never seen such pale and interesting strangers; they simply weren't worth his time.
The upper east side was a much more affluent neighbourhood than where Tristian had settled, but then this was Manhattan after all. Wealth in and of itself wasn't a bad thing, but it made people - Kindred and kine alike - so terribly boring. What was the point in having money if you were going to spend it on looking and acting just like everyone else? He sighed wistfully as he gazed up at the buildings, thinking of all of the coats and hats and jewellery he could buy the cost of a month's rent up here.
And then something else caught his attention.
There were Kindred all over New York City, he knew that, but the novelty of bumping into one by chance in such an open space hadn't worn off just yet. Paired with his blanched skin and silvery hair, Tristian's pale contacts added a wildness to his eyes as he gazed ahead into the dark at the figure heading towards him. The temptation to pry was strong, but he had to be careful if he didn't want to end up babbling to himself for the next five hours. Little grains of information were better than none at all.
The stranger felt young, younger than him; a baby. Was he heading back to his playpen?