The werebear saw her true face now, the one he had so stupidly dared to think could be buried for a night just like how he had buried his name (and so failed at the moment he met her). She was not pretty the same way she had been before, no longer reminding him of staring at the village from the edge of the forest and seeing the unattainable bounty. It was the pain of his scar all over again, of being lured in and realizing it was something he could never and would never have. A surprise he knew was too good to be true, yet had dared to hope would be different in his stupidity.

Still, whether he knew it was coming or not, it was a surprise. The demon bear had shredded pretty young women before to survive, he knew their taste and their smell and would have shredded the face of Calamity just the same for pressing him. But the face of a vampire was new to him, the sting of her fangs a pain distinct from that of torches and bullets. Thus did the terrified, agitated beast's razor-sharp claws stay themselves for just a fraction of a second, needing to sharpen his will to go forth and tear her apart to escape.

It was enough time for her to speak to him, to hold out her killer hand that had seconds ago been trying to hold him in a deathly embrace he had enjoyed too much. The words she spoke slid in slowly through his ears, the gesture she made shocking him even more. To beg for her life

But there the shame of man had its bind upon him too, the shame that even after she had tried to kill him, had revealed her true, monstrous face...a part of him still wanted to pick the money up and give it to her; the man that was still hungry for such a thing in so desperate a manner.