I see someone in the alley and glance up, my fangs ejecting out of my gums. Starving, I slide down a wall and tilt my head back, swallowing as my wings twitch.
All you need is faith, trust, and a little bit of pixie-dust!
'Hush, hush!' I whispered; 'people can have many cousins and of all sorts, Miss Cathy, without being any the worse for it; only they needn't keep their company, if they be disagreeable and bad. — Emily Bronte, Wuthering Heights