Early spring in New York was still quite cold. But the sun was warm and comforting at this time of year. Henry lay on the grass in Central Park, beside Catherine Hepburn, who was sketching from life. Kitty sat beside the old lady, staring at the fluttering butterflies.
Although she was also a feline, Kitty did not have the habit of chasing little dots or moving things. But when she encountered something relatively rare, she would still watch it closely. Who knew what was going through that "tabby cat's" mind?
The one thing certain was that Kitty was not wondering whether they tasted good, because a butterfly was not even enough for one bite, much less enough to taste. A balanced life was what Henry pursued. Whenever he went out with the old lady to walk the tiger, all that tedious research was tossed to the back of his mind. Besides, lately, he had been thinking about Vampires' behavioral patterns from the moment he opened his eyes. Especially after actual verification, the accuracy rate had been appallingly low. He was practically driving himself mad thinking about it. He had to relax.
Just as Henry enjoyed the sunlight soaking into his skin, every capillary seeming to open and breathe as it absorbed the radiation from the Yellow Sun, a ringing phone shattered the peace.
Henry kept his eyes closed as he lazily pulled his phone from his pocket, pressed the call button, and held it to his ear. "Hello~ Who is it?" "Black Super. It's Whistler."
"Oh~ Whistler."
"Are you high?"
"No~ I was just about to fall asleep."
The old vampire hunter nearly cursed aloud. He had only just recovered from a gunshot wound and was running himself ragged, while his other companion was loafing around. Who could stand that?