Blood Drive

Valentine had been a bit sulky - okay maybe just more sulky than usual - since losing Rhythm to Abaven. As he was wont to do he was torn on the subject. Some days he thought of her absence bitterly but others with a sense of relief. Today his thoughts were mixed. Bittersweet, if you will. On the one hand he couldn't worry about her too much with so much distance between them. If she relapsed it couldn't possibility be his fault, could it? And if his eye wandered...well...there was no old lady at his side to give him pause. On the other hand, however, his mind, without constant input from her, was left to its own devises. He was his own worst enemy in this regard; wondering just what she was up to and how she might be struggling.

Okay he needed to do something because this mope around and be pissy(er) stuff was garbage. But what was an old man to do? His wiles, like his balls, sank more each year and he wasn't as (overly) confident about his ability to woo pretty young things anymore. And old people were rarely fun enough for him so he didn't feel like shmoozing anyone his age.

He got up with a huff and began to wander. Without really planning it Valentine soon found himself in the canyon. He wove around jutting rocks and peered into caves looking, perhaps a little too hard, for fun or trouble or fun trouble. He just wanted something to do and he didn't care what he found.