THE HOUSE OF THE RISING SUN / raid

[j a c k .]

It was not too long ago that Jack stood in this very state, the kodkod eager for battle, for blood to needlessly be spilt- to proove his loyalty with the life of another. Cementing his role as a killer, as a member of the Pitt. It was before the proving rite was made that the Pitt found solidarity in war; in ruthless battle and a need to spill it. Jack once thought himself someone who needed that, needed that blood to stain his pelt and blight the land- stain him in the way that couldn't be undone. In a time of relfection: Jack could appreciate the difference, he had a reason to fight, beyond the violence. Gael had given him that, something to fight for where once there was nothing but the needless need for blood.

It felt impossibly good.

The kodkod remained in form, their small feline body shifting with a fluidity that didn't match the ice that coated their fur like a cloak: an armor of motion, of power. The only true admission to any form of plating from their neck where bleached bone met white fur, icy eyes watched along the rest of his own group's march towards the isle, a feeling of deep rooted electricity thrum under his pelt, rippling with the power that showed outward in the ice he commanded.