[tw: for gore I guess jic]

One could only subsist off of the meagre pickings their territory offered for so long, which is why night found the elder brother of the swordbearer out far past where their territory was, past the barren landscapes towards the mountains that ringed one side of the neutral territories towards where one of the ‘larger’ clans resided.

On silent claws did he approach, like a wraith - his scent dampened by the mire of their caverns, unrecognisable to those who had yet to meet any of the Sect - across the borderline of this ‘elysium’.

He almost scoffed at the name - name yourself the paradise after death? How fanciful to believe they could be so.

But if they wished to provoke the spectre of that final end - then Corvannis was all to happy to don the reaper’s cloak.

The mutant - barely recognisable as a leopard - creature ghosted through the territory, searching, hunting - the razor knife edge of his hunger enough to spur him on but never enough to weaken him (he wouldn’t allow it, the disadvantages too great despite what Chesha and their lords had said - hunger of the body was a weakness, but hunger of the mind? That had its merits at least to him)

His musings were interrupted as finally his quarry wandered into view - a night’s patrol of one,

My, my, how arrogant to only have singular sentries patrolling - did they think themselves safe? with the Pitt declawed (though rumour spoke they’d found their fangs again) and now the cardinal making movements like the slow turn of the worm in earth - they should know better than to be complacent.

Well, he would have to be the teacher it seemed.

The wolf he’d set his many eyes on turned, unheeding of the danger to follow back along their patrol routes - and the dark nightly lit shrubbery was the last thing she ever beheld as something collided with her - and then, nothing.

Mandibles and blue teeth sank deep into his quarry’s neck, a loud crunch that ended it all for the wolf in his maw and Corvannis smiles around the blood welling up, the strange leopard gorging on the red liquid as he dropped the still warm corpse to his feet.

He would have roughly half an hour before another patrol crossed this route - he’d been meticulous in watching their routes after all, he did so despise mistakes.

Crouching over the Corpse, he began the meticulous stripping of skin and fur from flesh - something useful he’d be taking back with him - and tearing the claws, lower jaws teeth and skull from his quarry, bundling the items up carefully to take back with him.

It didn’t take long - long used to this routine - but now he turned back to the fleshy carcass and started slicing open the wolf - taking care to remove the unwanted pieces and intestines before starting the feast - devouring the heart, lungs and kidneys, the blood painting his muted carapace in bloody hues as more of the juicy nutritious organs were stripped of the flesh before the beast even began on the flesh ensconcing the skeleton of the wolf.

The corpse was left half desiccated, flesh barely on most of it but largely the back legs intact with a torn open head and a bare lower jaw left gaping up into the ether.

He would have liked to strip them to the bone - but time was not his ally, he’d allowed enough for his feast and his prizes - but otherwise, he would simply have to mourn the lost opportunity.

Knowing the impending arrival of another patrol - a good 8 minutes away at least, enough to slip away quickly and quietly into the night - Corvannis gathered up his bundle across his back before turning and scampering away into the dark - making sure to take a route that would collide with a river crossing - enough to wash the blood from him and his prizes.

It wouldn’t do to leave an open trail right to their home after all, no it only led to the edges of the neutral territories either way.

And just like that, he was gone - only a severely maimed corpse left behind.