Ashtin watched as the door opened but couldn't compel himself to cross the thresh hold into the house. One feature he hated about being what he was is that with out being invited private homes were protected by the spiritual force of the occupants. Standing there his jay clenched tightly he inhaled and exhaled heavily.
"Moxie, you have to invite me in." he said showing slight urgency in his voice.
This is why he enjoyed big events, or traveling to the park for feeding. Always a chance that some one won't make it home. And most of the time he did kill his victims, just simply erased their memory of the attack. They would live a productive life more or less, be slightly anemic. Nothing that todays medication couldn't take care of.