He felt… not ill exactly. In fact, he almost felt stronger. Different was the closest he could come to describing the feeling that had come over him. It was invigorating, domineering even, but there was another part of him that was scared of the feeling.

Whatever the case, he felt charged, a little unpleasantly, so he went on a walk. After about half an hour he found himself at the Wrangler Bar of the nearby suburb of Sheldon. Not his first choice of hunting grounds but he’d gotten slightly familiar out of staying with the Dragons. It was VERY American country but also very close. And the feeling still hadn’t gone away, so he went inside to see if there were any good prospects this early in the night.

As it was, he was in luck. There was a man near the end of the bar that appeared to have already had more than a few drinks. A little while later, in the bar’s bathroom stall, the man slumped unconscious in his own piss.

JC listened for breathing before stepping back from the spreading pool, trying hard to not feel too good after jumping a man in a lavatory. On his way out, he whispered a tip to the bartender about a man passed out next the urinals.