It wasn't.
So really it was just a matter of time before he noticed the disappearance of his only friend, Clementine. Sorry, Clemente. He'd been supplying the young man with his own blood to the point of exhaustion when in tandem with the blood he was regularly farmed for at a price hardly worth mentioning. What was wrong with giving some to another person in need? As long as his parents didn't find out, he would have given Clemente the last drop he had if it meant another would be cared for.
As it was, he was feeling a little too good lately. A little too much oxygen running through the thin boy's veins as the days turned into nights with no sign of his gangly counterpart. And while cattle weren't recommended to wander by themselves at night, the rules had never stopped Dante before. Having asked around for Clemente to the point of more than one suspicious look and being led to a closed-door down a dark alleyway... Seemed right up his alley, if you will.
Without a second thought, he's pushing the doors open wide with a yell that seemed to get stuck in his throat halfway out as if having second thoughts and leaving him choking. It didn't matter who's attention he drew to himself though. Taking just a step into the warehouse sends the scrawny youth tumbling forward and spitting him out into the early morning of somewhere with too much nature to be his home.
The tail end of his yell turns into a yelp as he's tumbling ass over teakettle and into the base of a tree. What in the Jersey Devil-- His hands immediately fly to the mess of curls falling into his eyes as he blinks hazily around him. The sun is just starting to crest the hill, the snow padding the ground having cushioned his fall but not his head from the tree trunk.
"Uh, hello? Helllloooooo? Is anyone there?" Dante groans while cradling his head, taking a quick glance around before letting himself fall back into the snowbank, staring up at the sky that couldn't be his own. But knowing where you weren't didn't help figure out where you were.
"This is dicks."
