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tw: gore
Solo continuing from this thread
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Seeing the brutality Sojourn had brought back had woken a sort of lust in the panther, a hungry grin carving his lips and twisting the scars on his mouth. The blood and positioning of the lioness had called forth a memory of what both he and his father had done, and he flicked his tail. Didn't matter anymore. He was hungry, he wanted to feed- no, kill.
He wanted to destroy something to feed the character that had snapped his ties to sanity, a manic gleam forming in his optics. Ignoring anything else and seeing only red, he turned and bounded away, away from the sane people, away from the outer commotion. Irrelevant little shits. They didn't matter.
He liked bloodlusts, they prevented him from thinking straight and only give him the thought of hunting. Kind of like a high.
A chuckle, sinister, slipped from between his maw and before he even knew it he found himself in enemy territory, the Typhoon. Wet little fuckers, they were. Who the fuck cared? He was on a high, the blood was rushing through his system and he opened his maw a little, letting strings of saliva slip from between rubbery gums as he tasted the air.
Ah, prey.
Let the hunt begin.
Beautiful.

Fear hung in the air as the couple tried to run from an unknown presence, him, lurking, just out of reach. Tiny little things, he could almost squash them with a paw.
He examined their fur from afar, brightly colored, like a parrot. Would make a pretty gift, or he could dye it black or something. He'd have to be artistic first, which he was, but not with like painting or whatever.
Killing was an art, especially when you're experiencing it tenfold. He let the grin widen, pleased at the reaction he was getting before severing one's neck, watching the blood coat the other and it freeze, eyes widening and pupils dilating. He laughed, loud, causing the last one to whimper and shake in its place, unable to move.
"Maiming, it is then." He decided with a honeyed purr, his Italian accent coming in thick to coat his words smoothly, paralysing, hypnotising. The sun was going down, glowing the eyes of both him and it before he slowly made his way over, coat dripping with water, and nearly dragged a line from neck to underbelly, watching steaming hot guts roll out, a hungry gleam in his eyes. The animal was still alive but did he care?
No.
Why would he?
He preferred fresh food after all.
Gently picking up the spilt guts and throwing them to the side caused the other's knees to buckle and it thud to the floor, much to his delight. "You are truly wonderful." A rumble of delight, and the panther began feasting, the screams of the animal like music accompanying his meal. The flesh was gamey, so what? Not like he minded. Food was food, no matter what the state.
He was making such a mess that he lost track of the point the animal died and instead carried on tearing into its flesh, his claws cutting through its skin like scissors would paper.
And oh yeah blood got on him.
Hell yeah it did.
He grinned, more to himself than anyone else. "Father, are you proud of me?" A warning mumble, the scars on his muzzle twitched and he hoisted both animals up, flinging them onto his back and  beginning to make his way home.
Adrenaline was still pumping, but the panther, now full, was slowly coming off the drunkness, feeling stuffed, a lazy grin on his face.
He chose to enter camp slightly away from the group, maybe find somebody artistic.
But most likely they'd look at him weird.
His muscles were visible, painted with crimson colors of different hues, but so what?
He found a spot and called out, "Anybody good with artsy stuff?"

[sup]© tikki[/sup]

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Aphra came up and started purring at him, and due to the fact he wasn't completely off he wondered to himself what the bitch was trying to do. Surely not at his kill, he nearly scoffed. Nor was he planning on impregnating her again, so why was she trying to coo at him? He turned his gaze as Byriath approached slowly, questioning his reason for artsy people. "Well, you see, I'm trying to find something to do with this, since I think it looks kinda pretty or something." He shrugged, unsure what the bloodlust really wanted. Probably to skin the things and hang it up so he could wake up to the scent of blood?

[sup]© tikki[/sup]

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Sure he was expecting outbursts but not such a big one from Romulus, but he didn't react as the brute pinned him down, digging his claws into his skin. A chuckle came out of his parted jaws, choked down by him pressing down harder until the panther felt blood. Who cares? He gave the lion a smirk, touching his paws with his own black ones and watching the other let him loose. He stood up, shaking his fur, and began stroking the injured area with a rough tongue. He then brought up some boring shit about "our enemy", so if the Typhoon were their enemy why did he have such a big problem helping them kill their enemy? He shook his head, slightly confused but said nothing and instead watched the exchange of words between him and Aphra.
Not like he knew any of the rules here, because nobody bothered to tell him any, but oh well. Sojourn had actually spurred him on with her killing "our enemy", but hey, he wasn't complaining.
The bear spoke up, laying down the most basic rule. No reason to commit bloodshed.
Nor Jor decided he liked the bear and didn't like Romulus. Byriath he could respect as he seemed peaceful enough and didn't attack Jor on sight.
"Alright, thanks for the clarification." He completely ignored Romulus and addressed the bear-now-xenosmilus cat thing. Aphra started defending him, and he looked at her in interest. She seemed to despise Romulus as much as he does, and that made a smile form on his lips.
"Anything you'd like to dish out against her, take it out on me." He warned, a growl slowly forming. "Harm my kits and my blood won't be the only one spilt." Sure he had no romantic attraction to Aphra, but she was still the mother of his children and he was protective of the unborn.