It was nighttime of course, the only time where Matthew could walk the streets, much less stand upright and he, his well fitting suit and his cane were far too clean and comfortable for the hour it was.

Despite being a vampire, the man held a glow of health and color, though it did nothing for his lack of heartbeat or the earthy smell most animal associated with death, and the smile he wore as he stops a few feet away was a friendly, charming one.

"It's not quite Oz either," he offered in his muddled English/French accent. "I don't suppose we're lucky enough to have the irony of you being named Dorothy?"