At the sigh, John looked down at the ground. He knew he disappointed his maker with a lack of bloodlust. He'd gotten over his hesitency to feed, but he still rarely hunted, and had never taken his prey against their will. Most of the time he told himself it was because it was easier, and why bother hurting people when you didn't have to? But looking back on his anxiety earlier, he wondered if he just didn't have it in him.
He glanced at Eric, and knew how much the other would hate that if it were true. The inspired twisting feeling inside cast a shadow even his hunger. His brow furrowed, and mentally he resolved himself to do better. He hadn't half-assed anything as a human, and he refused to falter in Eric's eyes. He'd been given a gift the Viking hadn't bestowed on any other man, he wouldn't squander it being hung up on his previous life.
"You don't have to lie to me," he responded simply. He'd rather hear the truth, even if it was difficult. Facing a matter outright was often the only true way to resolve a problem. "And I'm not afraid. I won't let you down, or Pamela."