The sudden, loud swearing catches his attention above anything else he may have been in the middle of doing. Nothing that sounds exceptionally urgent, and yet, Kol still finds himself wandering from the back of the house toward the front at the exclamation.

"Oi! What happe--" His words are cut short as he gets closer to the front porch and the scent of blood hits him, right in all the wrong places, all the wrong moments.

He hasn't fed from anyone here, last thing he needs is the little huntress he lives with stabbing him in his sleep and actually succeeding in killing him because whatever's dampening his powers actually has made him weak enough to not need the White Oak to complete such a task--that's his current running theory, but he has no way to confirm it and isn't exactly in a rush to test it out. He's needed real sustenance since his arrival here, actual food, and he's stuck largely to Kate's mealtimes, here and there as required but never in excess, and, disgustingly, animals. The blood has a wicked horrible taste compared to human's, and it keeps him weaker, but it's worth the lack of stabbing in lieu of bloodbags like he'd become somewhat accustomed to in Lawrence.

But it's been a few days and he hasn't fed at all, so the scent of it hits him hard, like a brick wall.