If someone looked closer at Wormwood, truly closer, it probably wouldn't be that hard for them to see that there was a lot of anger simmering beneath the surface of Worm's calm and warm exterior. In general, that anger didn't come out blazing in full force, at least ever since he had arrived in Tanglewood. His rage had been a lot more free to shine and erupt back when he had been in the pride, uncared for and ignored by everyone, mostly ridiculed and treated as an outcast in a place that he had been born into, a place that he had expected to be his home. At that time, he had been much more likely to lash out, screaming and crying and hurting others for selfish reasons, to the point where at that time he had even tried to kill his own brother out of that anger. He had seen Poet as one of the people that had caused his anger and his despair, and he had thought that Poetking had been unfairly raised above him in every aspect for no reason. He still regretted that, even now that he felt fresh rage running through his veins, spurred on not only by Poet betraying him yet again, and leaving him in a great deal of pain, but also because of what the Pitt had been doing to them as of late. Not only had they hurt Sam, Beck, and Red, in addition to Crow and Selby through the death of Pastel, but they had also lured his brother over to their side, no doubt manipulating him and telling him that the Pitt would be better for him... at least that's what Wormwood hoped. If Poet had just left them to go to the Pitt all on his own... well, that only added on to the hatred and anguish that was plaguing him so often as of late.

It was pretty often that Worm ended up going for walks around the territory, sometimes because he actually had something that he needed to do, and sometimes because he just needed an outlet for the anxious energy that fueled his body forward. Generally he tried to stay away from his clanmates when he was out on these walks, just so that he didn't interrupt something like them hunting, or because he just needed a bit of time alone. However, when he caught the scent of Moth nearby, he blinked in surprise andifted his head up, a small smile curling onto his muzzle as he moved towards her scent. Ever since Poetking had left, Wormwood had become closer and closer to Moth, and had started to see her as closer family, almost like a little sister that he yearned to protect. He didn't want to acknowledge that fact, since it reminded him far too much of what his relationship with Poet had been like, just with Moth, but it still lingered in the back of his mind. Moth was deeply close to his heart now, and if he found out anybody was hurting her, then they would be in for a very very bad time. Hell, Poet had hurt Moth inadvertently with his leaving, but he still felt fury about the fact that the other lion had done such a thing. He still wasn't sure of the fact that if he saw Poetking again... he wouldn't just attack him outright because of what had happened.

In fact, as he got closer to where Moth's scent was, and he realized that a Pittian scent was mixing in with it as well, he realized he might have to face the question of what he would do if Poet showed up much sooner than he thought. However, it wasn't actually Ppet, as Worm had suspected. Instead, it was some unknown Pittian that Wormwood didn't know about, having never been told about him by Draekon or seen him during the raid, but Worm still felt frenzy fill him as soon as the scent reached his nose, and suddenly lay his footsteps were more urgent and less calculated, leaves and swamp life being trampled beneath his bone claws as he raced forward, drool filling his mouth and a sick gleam coming to his golden eyes. He didn't know why he felt such excitement inside of him at the prospect of attacking a Pittian, but it was definitely there, and soon enough every coherent thought was gone from his head, replaced by nothing but base emotions and desire. Desire to chase, desire to fight, desire to kill. The feelings only got worse when he finally reached the area Moth was in, her body collapsed in unconsciousness as the Pittian trying to drag her out of the territory by the leg. The drool in his mouth spilled out between his teeth, the cruel grin on his face widening before he barked out, his voice sounding wrong and warped as his back legs launched him off forward and out of the thick clumped trees, heading straight for Roman with both enthusiasm and madness, "Die, die, DIE! You're just another one of them! I'm going to kill you all! I'm going to END YOU ALL!" He sounded unchained and manic, glee in his voice as he charged into battle, flames consuming his entire front half, filling the gaps between his teeth and covering his claws as his fire elementals activated with his fury.

His shoulder slammed first into Roman, knocking the other male over onto the muddy earth and cackling with resentment at the surprised grunt Roman let out. It took only a moment for the wolf to scramble back up to his paws, but Wormwood was already stepping over Moth's collapsed body, launching himself forward and digging his fire covered fangs into the male's shoulder, a noise of satisfaction leaving him as Roman – Trojan, actually, which was unknown to Wormwood – shouted in pain, thrashing about and scratching at Worm's front legs and back. Worm just ignored the pain that blossomed throughout his front half, too spurred on at this point to even think about stopping, even if he could actually think in his current state. He kept his teeth sunk into Trojan's shoulder, thrashing his head from side to side to tear away chunks of flesh as he let his flames envelop the side of the wolf's face. Roman was still shouting, and at this point it was closer to screaming, and his actions got more erratic as he slammed his paws against the hellhound's face, Trojan's flesh burning as the smell of smoke mixed with the smell of blood and torn flesh, and the hellhound finally released his hold.

Trojan fell back, still shouting in pain over the flames still clinging to him, but his leg thrashed out at Worm's front, trying to kick him away. Wormwood was too far gone to be pushed away, however, and he sank his teeth into the remaining one of Trojan's legs, dragging the wolf closer to sink his front bone claws just beneath where the Mexican wolf's ribs were. There was another shout of agony as Trojan's movements began to slow, his energy draining as his blood did as well, not enough to kill him, but certainly enough to effectively slow him. Wormwood grinned down at Trojan – his enemy, his capture, his prey – and sank his teeth into the wolf's chest, lifting him up and slamming him down so that his head careened off of the earth, hard enough to knock the wolf out. There was a noise of pain that was cut off as Trojan went limp, and the flames that had enveloped Wormwood died down, although he still wasn't in his right mind. He picked the Mexican wolf up roughly by the scruff of the neck, dangerously close to the top of his spine and oh so close to just giving in to his desire and crunching down on vulnerable bone and muscle. As it stood though, he just dragged the Mexican wolf over to the trees that he had emerged from, tossing him to the ground to remain there before he moved over to where Moth was still collapsed.

He more carefully picked the medic up by the scruff, still gentle and protective of her even in his animalistic state. He then lifted the large creature up onto his back, grunting before moving off towards camp, grabbing Trojan again along the way. Soon enough he had arrived back at the camp, and he gently tipped over, letting Moth gently drop to the ground before he tossed Trojan to the ground as well. Blood and drool his still dripping from his jaws as he looked at Trojan's body, his eyes glimmering faintly with a desire to just lean down and end the Pittian's life, but he didn't want to do that yet. He wanted to make sure that Trojan suffered, and then he would partake in his feast of the food he so desperately craved.

( permission given to power play, things just highlighted so tikki can keep track of what has happened to Trojan/Roman lmao )

The first one to arrive was Kamara, someone that Worm had become quite well acquainted with when she had first arrived. He found that he liked her and her honesty and her storied past as an immortal being, and had easily integrated her into his center group of well liked acquaintances. However, now, when she was speaking in such a disapproving tone to him, he found anger and vile raising in his throat, along with his hackles. His golden gave narrowed at Kamara for a moment, and he snarled, not at her, but at the male beneath his claws, his pae resting on Trojan's shoulders and his claws gently pressing down at the male's shoulder to draw some more blood. He didn't say anything beyond this undefined snarl, his tail lashing back and forth as he moved to nudge Moth's limp body forward, as if saying "worry about the girl, not this bastard". His head lowered to sniff at the blood still running from Trojan's wounds, and he felt more drool dripping from his mouth, an overwhelming desire to just go to town and start ripping further chunks out of the Pittian. Still, Kamara's disapproving tone played once again in his head, and his ears pinned back as he reluctantly pulled his head back, drool still dripping to the ground mixed with the blood splattered across his front.

The second one to arrive was Delilah, and it seemed that the blind female didn't realize that the situation had already been forcibly resolved. Still, that seemed to be enough to vaguely snap him out of it, and his golden gaze faded a bit as lucidity began to return to him. He blinked a couple of times, a sort of groggy haze coming over his head as he returned to his usual state. Shaking his head from side to side, he let out a pained little grunt before turning his attention back to Delilah. When he remembered what she had said, a dry chuckle left him and he rasped softly, his voice utterly wrecked as he spoke gruffly, "Del... Del, Moth and I are fine. Well... Moth isn't. She needs Selby to look her over, but the Pittian won't be an issue. He's passed out."The smell of the Pittian's blood still curled tantalizingly around his muzzle, tempting him considerably, but he steadfastly ignored it in favor of looking over at Kamara. He hesitated for a moment before barking out slowly, his head throbbing, "He... I... I don't know. And he isn't just some "boy", he's a filthy Pittian. Part of the group that's been nothing but trouble, and he attacked Moth. I dont regret what I did..." Even if I can't remember most of it... His mind helpfully added on, a frown coming to the hellhound's face as he rolled Trojan further away from Moth.

He then said as he turned back to the small audience, feeling the blood in his fur already beginning to dry over his front, "One of you... Delilah, Kamara, get Selby so he can see to Moth's injuries. I don't know what will happen to the Pittian... I guess that'll be up to Crow to decide." He knew what his still foggy mind wanted him to do. It wanted him to kill Trojan, tear him limb from limb, and then maybe invite Vathmos to partake with him in eating the bastard's flesh, but... that would be wrong. It was awful, and violent, and something he never would've thought of before, even when faced with the very worst of the worst. He didn't know why he was so damn eager to just cause Trojan as much suffering as he could inflict right now, but the urge was running through his veins, and he desperately needed somebody else to come and sort this all out before he was forced to give in.