It was around 6 in the evening when Mithias heard the sounds of a horse and carriage roughly rolling through the forest. In a heavy, hooded cloak, he stepped out onto the poorly traveled road that led into the little town, watching the direction the carriage was arriving from. He watched. It wasn't often Ipswich attracted travelers, and he was mildly curious. Mithias had been about to go into the town himself, to feed, to kill, and to observe his current, small flock of humans for a while. The horse balked and neighed loudly, startled by the sudden dark shape in the road. A flock of birds took off suddenly from the sticks of the bare tree-tops above them as the horse made a fuss. The carriage driver called to control her, "Ho girl! Ho there, now move around." As he passed he saw Mithias, or rather, saw a cloaked man, presumably an old man, slightly hunched over as he was, but he could not see the man's face. "Best stay out of the road good sir!" The carriage driver called back, slightly annoyed at the delay caused by some deaf old man. 

In the brief moment that it passed, Mithias looked in the window of the vehicle, gaining much with his accelerated senses. He could wreck this carriage, take his fill of blood early tonight, but it would depend on what was inside. They were still far enough from town that no one would be the wiser. The carriage could be burned, bodies destroyed... In a quick glance through the window, he saw a young man inside, also looking outward at him. He was very young, had lightly tanned skin, short brown hair, and a blank and innocent expression. There was a trunk on the floor of the carriage, two guns, and of course blades. The man was alone, dressed nicely atop somewhat drab, upholstered seats with french flower designs on them. Outside the carriage, yellow eyes gleamed from under a dark hood, a few tendrils of long, black hair escaped in front. Mithias caught the change in expression as the young man was taken away. He had seen him, or at least enough of him to be startled. 

Mithias let them go. The carriage never halted. It was a good thing humans doubted themselves so much. 

Shortly thereafter, the cloaked vampire meandered into town. People were still about, cooking dinner, going home, or going out for more night-worthy activities. Mithias kept himself out of notice while he hunted. 

People died all the time. A fall, a broken leg, disease... There was also murder, and much of it went unpunished if the killer had any sense. The loss of a few adults here and there ultimately made no difference to the population, and death was something humans had to deal with all the time regardless of the cause. By right, Mithias could kill anyone he wanted. He was a part of nature. There was no point in trying to spare his victims, as it only lead to anti-vampire enthusiasm. He had been punished for trying to destroy his own species once before, and he'd never risk it again. So he killed. Perhaps it was a more merciful death than many of the other modern-day alternatives. 

The pale body of a young stable hand would be found. Damn kid seemed to have died of that anemia that had been going around. Perhaps that was why he had always been asking for more sleep. 

Now smelling of horses, Mithias walked slowly, cane in hand, down the street.