"Not knowing is what killed the woman you saw me feeding on," Sorin said as steps continued taking him past Kasmina. "She knew of vampires, of course, but her life was over long before she encountered me. Her late husband was turned into a lesser creature of the night weeks ago. With nothing left in this world, she collapsed mentally, and could not care for herself physically. I spared her from the sickness she could not have anyone else see to." His words were true. Those gleaming eyes of his could see the thread of life within mortal beings. When he saw that woman, he saw her crippled soul, and as he drank her blood, her wretched memories flooded his mind. This was what gave Sorin the thrill every full moon. Each time, his singular hunt let him feel as vampires were meant to, while retaining his sense of self from sparing the meek of their final, torturous days.

As Kasmina spoke to share her beliefs about him, he brought his steps to a halt. She was right to think these things. He was a creature of darkness, true, but he was just as easily called a harbinger of God's will. Such was the case with his father, but in a different and less-believable right. "That, milady, is why braving the journey to my castle was for naught," he said. The very next moment, Sorin was in front of Kasmina, reaching to slip the ring off her finger in no more than the time between two of the twists she'd been performing. He would hold this ring between their faces, brows furrowed upon his, as he spoke through the well-restrained desire to bite this woman where she stood. "A lesser vampire could not touch this. The silver alone would burn the skin, but this ring is much more powerful than that. Vampire Hunters fight with Holy Artifacts only because they are symbols of faith. This ring, though... In this ring is more faith than I've ever seen in a hunter. With this upon your hand, you could touch a vampire and set them aflame without even knowing what you'd done."