Yes, a vampire fond of sailing was quite an odd condition indeed. It'd made his exploits in the past even more dangerous, and his bloodythirsty reputation quite literal. It had unnerved his men to keep live prisoners in the brig, but they'd been happy to tell him whatever useful thing they had in their miserable heads once he'd fed on them. He compelled them to all remember him as terrifying and brutal and set them on their way, miserable and confused. Sometimes it was more important to build infamy than it was to kill.

He had no particularly reason to stay, yet he had no particular reason to go, either. Which was enough reason to linger for him. He didn't suspect she needed defending and honestly he liked to call himself a gentleman, but he really didn't try terribly hard to uphold it. He was more curious than anything, though it seemed a dangerous curiosity when she guessed at something she really shouldn't have known.

There was a tick in his jaw, a slight tensing she'd really have to look for. He didn't think she was a hunter, but this would be a rather annoying night if she was. "Surely not, it'd be foolish to piss in the well." He didn't actually work around here, but he was around enough that he didn't need to cause unnecessary trouble for himself. "Would you stop me if you had?" Hunters aren't much for bargaining, he has found, but they did like to announce themselves. She was either a hunter or magical of some sort, to have sensed what he was.