Listen to them—the children of the night; what music they make! The wolves are not to me as they are to other men. To them the night is freedom and food; to me it is kinship and home, and I have learned to love their voices as a man loves his own blood.
Extending the famous line, the Count explains inverted affections. Calling wolves ‘children’ makes the wild family. The diction (‘kinship,’ ‘home,’ ‘blood’) turns horror intimate.