his azure eyes explored the dark pink under-surface of his eyelids momentarily, his broad fingers clutching at his naked chest as his thirst lured him into consciousness.  back he peeled the thin lids of skin, exposing his cowering eyes to the bright light of a torch in the hallway.  the fire flickered, illuminating the edges and surfaces of the occasional large blunt object in the room, casting waltzing shadows across the dark walls.
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	his colourless hands fell to his side, then, and he lifted his bare back from the crimson satin sheets. they clung to his damp body, shimmering slightly in the torch’s harsh light.  he had not remembered leaving his door so awkwardly ajar, and marvelled at the idea of sleeping so soundly in the stark light.  he leaned forward, fingers extending towards his toes, and worked his spine, twisting it slightly, eyes squeezed shut in concentration.  he clenched his teeth with satisfaction with each dull pop of his bones.  he propped his right elbow on his thigh, cupping his jaw bone in the large palm of his hand, and cracked his neck loudly.  he repeated this with his left elbow, before moving to his fingers.  he presses his thumb firmly against each of his knuckles, producing ten rhythmically spaced snaps.  he continues his crude ritual, cracking the rest of the joints in his hands.  he makes circles with his ankles and wrists, delighting in each little pop of his fatigued bones.  he swings his legs over the side of his bed and stands, flexing his tightened muscles, a large yawn stretching his mouth, large fangs dangling from his sallow lips.
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	he paces over to his dresser, large bare feet padding softly against the persian rug thrown decadently across the cold stone floor.  peering into the mirror, he cups his worn hands into the water basin, splashing water across his face.  he rubs around his eyes, washing away the crust and the mental state of just waking up.  of course, when you first rise, it is necessary to wash away that look of sheer confusion from your face and replace it with a clean, rejuvenated complexion.  he was not at all refreshed from the water, a petty mortal’s idea of refreshment.  his thirst is strong this evening, as he pulls on his cloak, collecting a few items into its large pouches.  he steps out into the hallway and sighs, raising his hand near to the flame of the torch in the hall.  he turns and treads down the stone corridor quickly, his lips urging him on thirstily.
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