Reaching up to rub at his head, he leans into the kisses and hugs, bewildered and trying to pull his wits back around him. It takes him a couple of tries to speak, learning to make his voice work again. "...I'm - I'm sorry," he rasps, lisping on his fangs.

"I think I...."

He looks down to his throat, to Herbert's bleeding wrist. Absently, he licks his lips, realizing he's a bit of a mess now. The taste is...even better than it was last night, actually. He's really thirsty.

"I think I just met...Death? And I almost went with them, but...but I...heard...you. And there was a...some kind of string connecting us."