Eric simply raised an eyebrow at the mention of mediocre food and decided he'd just have to rough it. Then again, he could always get lucky. So long as there were humans willing to trust him, then there wasn't much to worry about. If they weren't, there was always glamouring. It seemed to be serving Pam well since she looked as healthy as ever.
Placing a hand on her back, he steered her so she could walk with him. Considering it was a supposed end of days, he figured it only made sense to not stay in one place for too long and perhaps if they were lucky, something that was actually interesting might happen. He'd only been there for thirty minutes and already, he was painfully and possibly irreparably bored. So much for meeting the four horsemen right away. "Whichever you prefer, though I'd like to know what you meant by witches in your text message."
Like any vampire over the age of 200, he was aware of what had happened back in the times of the Inquisition and of what necromancy could do to their kind. If there were witches in Louisiana much less near Shreveport or Bon Temps, they would inevitably need to be dealt with. "You said they've already been tended to?"
That would at least make things somewhat easier, although Eric wasn't so naive as to think that slaughtering a whole room full of witches would solve all of their problems. Russell Edgington's actions on national television would still be fresh in mankind's memory for centuries. Business was likely to be worse than usual.