He paused, then retracted his fangs and stared at her; she watched him nervously out of the corner of her right eye. "That was not a real scream," he whispered, his voice flat. "I know a real scream when I hear one." "No, it was," she said. "I was ... am ... terrified." "There is also a rush of adrenaline in the body when terror is present," he responded slowly, his eyelids narrowing. "It's an aroma the blood takes on." "I have a low stimulus response!" she said, turning to look at him (look into the red of his eyes). "You know that!" "What I know is that you're faking it," he said then, getting angry. "You are trying to fake a bloodcurdling scream as if I've never heard a real one in my life!" "I'm sorry my scream doesn't meet your fucking expectations!" she yelled, overreacting out of a kind of panic. "Why don't you just fly off and get your eardrums busted by someone else!?!" "No ... look ... I just ... ," he started again, unsure. "I'm over it," she spat out, moving away. "Go fang yourself for all that I care!" "Wait! No!" he cried, completely confused.