Ithilwen had been wandering again, far away from her beloved ocean. She missed it desparetely. Her feet touched the grass her eyes could no longer see, her hands not bothering to find anything for guidence. These grounds were regarded as sacred, and she had brought no weapon but her staff. She bore no intentions of harm with it, only as an aid to avoid falling into a pothole.
Her nose twiched. She smelled three species: Fairy, something with a hint of dragon, and- Her entire body tensed. Vampire. She bore an exceptional loathing for those that drank the blood of others, willingly sacrificing countless lives to sustain their own. They bore the metallic scent of blood, though few could smell it. The only reason she could smell it, and hear every word they spoke pinpointing their location was because she had gazed upon a cocatrice's feather when she was young, robbing her of her sight. Her pupils were entirely missing, leaving a blue iris.
Apparantly the vampire had armed herself on these sacred grounds. She snarled. She had twice as much reason to hate her now. She marched up onto the hillock, legs akimbo, her ratty burlap dress and brown hair flapping in the wind. "And why are you here, demon?" She demanded, able to appear to look the vampire in the eye. Hopefully her eyes would not appear entirely empty.