As Ray moved forward without a second thought, Asher came to an abrupt stop just before the end of the causeway. He'd heard that people got back the abilities that the Island took away from them, and he still wasn't exactly sure what that meant for him.

He couldn't fly and he'd never been psychic; his powers involved ripping peoples' throats out with little effort and even less remorse. Was he going to want to sink his fangs into the first person to cross his path? He was perfectly capable of suppressing all of his urges back home, but that was with five hundred years of practice. At that point, he had the Thirst well under control.

He wasn't sure how six years as a human would changes that. Or if it would change it.

Rather than stand there and wonder all night, he drew in one last, deep breath and took that final stepped off of the causeway. Once both feet were firmly planted on the city on the other side, he immediately doubled over, hands up over his ears as the sounds and smells of his new surroundings made him feel as though he's going to throw up everything he'd eaten that week right before his head exploded.