The man was a doctor. Simple as that. Olivier Monat was a doctor, and a scholar, and a philosopher. But above all, he was a doctor. He did things to help ailments of men, women, and children alike, and he did things that improved his ability to help, however dark the method was. Such as dissection, autopsy. Experimentation on living beings. He'd never gone as far as that, though. He never experimented on live subjects.

The large rat was given to him for food, yes, but he was not hungry. Instead, he took it to a place just outside the main camp's range, out of view of most, and prepped for his incursion. Setting the rat onto its back and keeping it there was tough but doable, and after a moment he was able to sink a claw into it's throat and start slicing downward. Muscle and flesh were soon cut into, and eventually he made it to the sternum. It was a little bit bloody, and he wiped his paws on his black cloak. It was used to this sort of abuse.

A noise nearby, like someone approaching, made him freeze up and look over, blue eyes glaring in the direction for a moment before his ear twitched. "Can I help you?"

[member=18062]DAMION[/member]

"CALL ME MAVERICK"