There was almost a skip in his step as he approached the nervous ball of Kindred in front of him. It was easy to feel powerful and important when you surrounded yourself with humans but amongst his own kind Tristian was very much an infant himself; getting to play the big bad wolf was a rare treat that he had absolutely no interest in passing up. The boy's hood - sadly not red - was pulled down over his hair, so the Malkavian would forgive him for not seeing how big his eyes were or how sharp his teeth were.
As he neared he circled his prey one, two, three times before letting his gaze soften on the boy. Tristian remembered the dread he'd felt when hunting alone for the first time since Rusty had left, the way he'd let his hunger fester until he had no other choice but to answer its terrible call. Reaching out and taking what you needed could be daunting without a presence to guide you...although this one hardly looked underfed. Perhaps it hadn't been that long? Perhaps he simply lacked the willpower of Tristian's fledgling self.
Poor baby.
"Hello." His voice was all honey and condescension. "Do you need any help, little one?"