"No," he answers honestly, voice sharper than he wants it to be as he turns away from him, fingers laced behind his head. He tries to breathe through it, force that feeling gnawing at him down to his bones to pass. Thorfinn wasn't just some random person, he was a friend, as reluctant as Kol is these days to put that label on anyone. Time was when he'd not have thought twice about it, simply would have gotten a little rough about it, and drained him dry. But he wasn't exactly that person anymore. Violent, sure, a murderer, absolutely, but not like that. Not in over a year.

"I--" his voice is tight, and it's pretty clear, even with bis bsck turned to him, that he's holding something back. "You need to stop the bleeding." As much as it may have been minor to the warrior who has seen and suffered so much worse, Kol can't stand either the scent or the sight of it right now. "It's not...safe. I'm not--" he lets out a frustrated growl. If he could just feed, regularly, and on humans, this would never have been an issue.