CAN'T DROWN MY DEMONS, THEY KNOW HOW TO SWIM.
So he had heard from across the grapevine that he had to do some crusty old tradition to actually be considered a true member of the Pitt. Man, he thought just stepping on the land and joining would be enough. But apparently it wasn'tand it was some test to prove his loyalty. Well he hadn't planned on going anywhere else and he sighed softly before shaking his head a bit. "I didn't sign up for this. Why can't things just be easy? Everyone has to be complicated..." And or make things complicated for everyone else but that was life he supposed and so he was just going to try and make it through the first part of this tradition. Just hoofing it alone in the wilderness of the desert which he doubted would be too hard. He lived much of his own life on his own, after he was allowed to spread his wings and leave the nest so to speak. Sometimes he did miss his father but the world was too expansive just to hide away from it. Coming out of his underground home he shouldered his small pack after having reverted to his domestic form. It was...easier this way.

Short tail flicked as he stepped out into the said wilderness to he guess survive. Knowing him he would probably just lay back somewhere and just chill. Maybe eat every now and then but given what he had become food was not really a necessity and he just needed to have a little bit of blood. Slowly his forked tongue slid across his fangs as he contemplated the idea of it all. It just seemed so frivolous to him. But he couldn't tell them that. They would get pissed off. The farther he went into the desert alone the more he wanted to turn back and just crawl back into his bed. He was furnishing his home still and he liked it so far. Now he just needed to settle himself somewhere. Anywhere. It took him till actual night fall to find himself a place to stay. A overhang and this was where he snuggled himself up with a small blanket. His eyes watched as the moon shown in the sky and he sighed. One day...maybe he would get the courage to try and find his other parent. Maybe.

But he felt like he wasn't worth the effort. He was given up in a way, but it was to save his life. Yet he felt like he was making a dog's breakfast out of the life he had even given. He was not very motivated and he just wanted to relax and discover shit. Closing his eyes he finally drifted off to sleep, trying not to think of what else awaited him.

---

A groan left the man as he treaded across the desert, eyes looking almost bloodshot. A week in. He had survived a week in and his hunger was killing him. His mouth felt dry and he felt like utter shit. Hunting was harder than he thought it would be out here in the desert alone. Maybe he should have taken this more serious than he had at the beginning. He felt the urges crawling in his skin, his jaws ached and he narrowed his eyes against the burning sun. Food. He needed something and his ears pulled forward before he saw something. It was an ugly thing at least to him. It didn't have any fur either but that hardly mattered to him because he could hear it. The pounding of a heart, the sound of blood swimming through veins. It was brilliant. Without a though the cat made his way closer and closer still before he paused and hide himself. Looking at the creature now it appeared to be some kind of mutated serval, naked as hell. Didn't matter. Couldn't matter. He was hungry as hell. And so he dashed out of his hiding place and jumped on the bigger cat's back.

Immediately there was a fight. Nothing like to lose their life but he had to come out on top. His teeth sank into the other cat's throat and the blood that filled his mouth was to die for. It had been so long since he had had the stuff straight from the source. He couldn't let to even as the other kicked and scratched at his body until movements became too slow and too sluggish. They both feel to the ground and the domestic kept firm, feeding, eating. Living. Slowly he pulled back with blood caking his maw and a shudder to his breath. His eyes were no longer bloodshot and he shook himself before swiping his tongue across his maw. "Guess I'm bringing you back, pal. Oh, nice to meet ya by the way. Sorry about making you lunch." Blood dripped from his own shoulder but he could ignore that for now as he picked up the naked serval.

---

It took him little time to get back to where the Pittians called their home and he was eager to get to his own home and sleep for like ten years. His legs hurt, paws hurt but at least he was here now. Dropping the serval he had made a meal of he hadn't exactly wiped all the blood off his maw but enough of it. Hopefully no one would notice the animal he had killed and collected was devoid of blood. "Hey I'm back. I did yalls thing and brought back this. Imma head out and go to sleep now. Thanks." He spoke with tiredness leaking in his voice.

The Blooding and Nights of Solitude was one of The Pitt's traditions that Dante rather enjoyed, at least in theory. When he done it the first time, he had been dragged out by his clanmates and devoid of his drugs - causing him to get withdrawal symptoms for a god damn week. It definitely hadn't been pretty, but the second time around, Dante did it on his own accord, and brought his drugs with him. A couple of them, at least. Just enough to get him through a week. Most newcomers did theirs pretty quickly after joining, though Dante wasn't surprised to see Valhalla lagging behind a little bit. The two of them were almost the same; Valhalla was a lazy prick and definitely seemed like the type who enjoyed a good drink or two. Or four. Maybe getting absolutely fucking baked. Maybe he could see if the guy would be interested sometime.

Definitely not today, though, considering the rather sluggish way Valhalla dropped his capture and declared he was off to go sleep. Dante let out an amused snort, resting in town, and called after the other hybrid, "Nice catch." Though whether or not Valhalla actually heard him? Didn't really matter to him.[glow=COLOR,1,400] ━ ✧*:･ﾟ[/glow]