— There was a tangible difference in Ament , without his sisters there. Without a pack to stabilize his softer side he was all anger , all wraith . His own time within under someone else's thumb , under someone else's control only made him more volatile. The raptor had never been ashamed of himself , his violence . a creature without conscious beside the note of absence ( the lack of pack, of true comfort ; no sanctuary , just moments of silence cut by the hollow static where someone else's mind carved his own- ) . oh , how the silence rang now , without the clatter of chains wrapped around his throat to keep him grounded- Ament was floating, floating high, like when he was but a hatching ; perched atop his mother's noes and watching the sun rise with his sisters .

Now, Ament knows truly that pack is not everything , without it - without his sisters he was still himself . Grief unmade you , but it defined you too . Without his sisters he was just as ruthless , as bloodthirsty . Just now he had nothing left to loose or fight for , no greater purpose beside his own survival and pleasure .

To hear the far off shouts of the clan members reached the predator ; cut through the silence like a knife and made him snarl in agitation alone ( never mind the relief at being brought to the present ; negate the gratitude for misaligned - the angry malevolent evergarden who was hurt , broken like him ) Ament stalked towards the group with a low purr rumble deep in his throat , the savage tacking note of the tension cut through the entire group - the raised voices , the anger , the hurt the pain laced words . H knew body language , he saw the signs . With a clear distinction the raptor prowled to step before the group - cutting off looks towards evergarden - glares and cutting words alike, and letting out another rumble towards the main coon ; a threatening step towards them

the question was - were they an ally , or were they foe ?

predator or prey ?

— Rage is such an easy emotion ; compared to grief and morning .  Many defected from genuine to masks and bottled up . Ament is a predator , has never turned away from wraith or violence . it is instilled as a child , instinct were sense should have been : the hunger for violence is dominate , especially to him . Tension bleeds between the group as savage snarls - yowls and cutting words that Ament cannot understand

In the end , it does not matter, if evergarden is a predictor or prey ; even without his pack - without mother's shadow or his sister's support - Ament is the apex predator . Under someone else's hand he was nothing but an attack dog - static and blood freed him - now he lets the same static build, let the hunger for violence rise until there is nothing but the carnal lust for blood to once again taste his blood.

In the present sense , something in the pink main coon shifts , wings sprout from their back and horns crown their head . They take on these features as if it would deter him ; and many once it would have , for the same taste of shadow - of mother lingers on them now - but it only seems to anger the utharaptor , a low rumbling purr building deep in their throat now halting as a savage snarl cuts across their features. Sea-storm eyes dilating in a heady rush as in moments - quick reactions that may be too quick for other's to react - Ament pounces.

Ament uses his teeth first - bounding closer he attempts to enclose his maw around the other's neck. A killing blow if not for the way Ament intents to use his grip to fling the other away. to distant them from their allies or no, Ament will become the executioner in this one's end - if he manages to distant Delilah from the rest of the angry group he will be quick to follow. The feathered beast again attempting to bite down on the other - this time on one of the appeared limbs : A wing, and break it, if not wrench it from their back entirely.