He continues to stare at the anemones -- it's better than staring at the blood droplets, anyway. If they turn into flowers, they're far less likely to arouse his hunger. He doesn't feel like getting up, doesn't feel like moving, but he knows he'll have to eventually. He can't stay out here all night, and he's heard there are things in these woods that would be dangerous even to a vampire.

"Yeah. We've known each other since we were kids."

Someday he'll try to wrap his mind around how this place works, how it decides who to bring here and where to bring them from. For now, though, he knows those thoughts are far beyond his comprehension. Even the abundance of flowers that Ned has created strikes him as almost incomprehensible.