You WOULD get right to the line and toe it but not cross it.
It is such a strange thought. To think that the ones with the sharp claws and blood-soaked mouths are afraid of a little human whose greatest weapon involved cooking utensils. It's sounds so unlikely but it isn't unheard of. The creatures in the dark have been wary of the 'harmless' humans ever since man first picked up a stick and learned to make a spear.
Alexander had long since stopped being afraid of humans but he could always recall that feeling of fear. Like love, it could drive anyone to do things they never thought they would do or even capable of.
"It wasn't a matter of who wouldn't believe you but who would and word travels like fire." Uncontrollable, even if started by the smallest of flames. New Hope was special in that it protected it's citizens but a fire was all-consuming and so very hard to put out. "You know the stories. Wolves and vampires are not widely known as the heroes." He smiled when he said this, though it was hollow and dry. The small turned into a frown when Charlie admitted that she had been worried death had been knocking at her door but there was no time to properly respond because they were interrupted by one of the neighbors.
He waited patiently as the woman chatted amiably with Charlie. Even smiled warmly toward this Mrs. Nettle once her eye wandered to him. She found him dashingly handsome, that was plain on her face when she gave him a good once-over. And the sly look she sent Charlie before leaving was most definitely one of approval. Had she given Charlie the same glance when Royce came around? He lifted hand to wave the woman a goodbye as she left, polite smile still in place and yet to speak a word. Sometimes, it was better to stay quiet. All the better to listen and observe. It was quite amusing to see Charlie's face flush from embarrassment at the old lady's subtle words, though maybe they weren't all that subtle if even he understood what she had meant.
"Ah yes, how ridiculous an idea it would be." He smirked as he walked past her, pausing at her side for a moment, relishing the difference in their height. "... you and I. Perhaps Mrs. Nettle thinks I am your knight in shining armor, come to save you from-" He stopped speaking once he was completely in the apartment, not because of the downright shoddy workmanship that was the four walls and floors that made the box that she called home but because there was such a distinct smell coming from the kitchen. "You cook? Well, that would explain why they weren't all skull and bones when I found them here." He spoke casually, though careful to not drop names, and went into the kitchen to take a closer look at the meal she had been preparing. "Who taught you? Not your mother, I'm assuming. Grandmother? Family friend?"