His eyes fix on the strange jar she's carrying and he can smell the familiar metallic tang. It does not make his mouth water, but his veins sing for it.

"No matter. Is this -- ?"

He points, looking up at her, and for a moment, she might see how far off the map he is. His eyes are burning coals in his sunken eye sockets and his mouth is a dark red slash across his pale face. Even in the shadows, she can see the dagger fine points of his fangs descending.