He'd thought nothing of the feeling at first. It was only a restless sensation, the same kind of desire that came over him when he needed a good run or a hunt. It made his body almost itch with the need to shift and his gums ache. It kept him tossing in bed until he couldn't stand it any longer and threw the covers back, rising. It took little time to dress in jeans and a black shirt, throwing a hoodie on and shoes soon after. Grabbing his house keys and the gun resting on the counter, both went into clothes - the keys into the pocket of the hoodie and the gun in the waistband of his jeans, resting reassuringly against his lower back and covered by his jacket. Taking the stairs from his apartment down to the street, gray-green eyes flashed in a luminescent glow for a moment as they caught the light overhead from the half-moon. A quick scan told the male that there was no threat present and he moved out on to the street and across to the next sidewalk. His breath clouded before his face, Autumn having officially come to the city. The cold didn't bother Warren, though, as he rather enjoyed the transition from high Summer to early Winter. Still, the cold meant longer nights and shorter days; the perfect combination for more Vampire activity. They were creatures who didn't mind the cold either and in fact loved it. Winter meant they had far more time to move about. Summer was their bane. Well aware of the Vampiric hubs in this city, Warren was not oblivious to the fact that he'd entered their territory about fifteen minutes prior. Usually he would have stayed clear, but tonight...tonight something was drawing him. He'd not really been conscious of it until now, but it was true. It was the truth of that knowledge that made him stop very purposely in the middle of the empty sidewalk. It was quiet out, this part of town known more for its druglords, prostitutes, underground nightclubs, gangs and general shady activity. All the life was inside the buildings and underground where the police weren't as likely to find out - and Vampires were safe from the sunlight during the day. It wasn't odd for the streets to seem so empty, for lights to be off and the neighborhood to be dark. It wasn't even strange for the smell of blood to be in the air, but somehow it made Warren uneasy this time around. But why? He was being drawn here. Did he want that? No. No, he really didn't. He'd stopped contracting with people two years ago for a reason and the last thing he needed was someone his power was trying to bond him to. The last person he'd done that with...had ended up dead. Warren didn't want to do that again. The problem, however, was that he wasn't sure if he had a choice in the matter because as he turned to leave, pain spiked through his head, eliciting a soft snarl from the dark-haired werewolf, his fangs elongating slightly in reaction. Damn it! Turning back the way he'd been walking, just to test a theory, he winced as the pain died down to a buzz and then faded completely. Warren didn't need to know that if he tried to leave again, the retaliation from his power would be worse. No, there was nothing to do but move forward and it was with grudging, frustrated understanding that Warren did so, coming to the end of an alley without even being able to accurately say how he knew it was the right one. The smell of blood was cloying here, though, and in the distance, under the moonlight, he could see the vague shape of what looked to be a....human? The werewolf looked carefully up and down the street and then once more in the alleyway before he looked up at the buildings themselves. Humans never looked up and it was often their downfall. Warren was far wiser and he knew what lurked in the dark. Seeing nothing here as of yet, though, he moved into the alley, gray-green eyes glowing slightly whenever they caught the light, reflecting it as he came closer to the still figure the scent of blood was so strong on. It was a girl. No, no, a woman and that red wasn't all blood, but her hair. There WAS blood, though, a lot of it. She wasn't really bleeding anymore, however, and Warren's eyes instantly narrowed, trying to assess if that was because her wounds had simply clotted or if it was because she was dead. But why would his power lead him to someone already dead? No, she lived. His ears could just barely pick out her breathing, his eyes just catch the rise and fall of of her chest, shallow but there. She was alive...but with those bite wounds, bleeding and in this cold....perhaps not for long. The werewolf cursed under his breath, knowing what he should do, knowing what the right thing to do was, what the smart thing was; leave her here to die. It was harsh, cruel, yes, but it would be the correct choice. He had no idea who she was, why she'd been attacked by Vampires or if she belonged to one of them and they'd come back for her. The last thing he needed was the bloodsuckers coming after him when his kin were already causing him enough trouble. Leaving her would be wise. But he couldn't make himself do it. She was so pale, crumpled in a heap upon the dirty cement, her body losing heat rapidly even as she'd lost too much blood to be safe. His power wouldn't let him leave her....and his sense of honor wouldn't let him walk away, not even if he called the police to shut his conscience up. No, this was HIS problem now. She was HIS responsibility. That feeling was so overwhelming that Warren was crouching to pick her up before he could rethink the idea. In his arms, she seemed to weigh nothing, but her body was far too cold against his far too warm one. She reeked of Vampire and blood - and something he couldn't quite pinpoint - and the fact set his teeth on edge for reasons the werewolf couldn't explain. What he did know, however, was that when he turned to head back to his apartment, the sense of urgency that hit wasn't false and his feet found speed against the asphalt as he carried his surprise patient through the night.