COMING OFF A HIGH // o, bloodlust (tw; gore)

[Romulus]

The tinge of blood in the air had never brought any pleasure. Nor would it ever bring good. Salt in the air and sly words in the distance had always brought demise, death, and disdain. Romulus, knowing his own parents and the group he was in, had never enforced such a narrative and kept to himself. Occasionally though, he had a run in or two. Today, to his distaste, was one of those days. With the scent lingering in his nostrils and his gaze narrowed on the soaked snow in the distance, the lion began to traverse over. His dull expression soured instantly.

Unlike Aphra's assumption, his judgement would show. As he grew closer, his gaze locked onto the crowd that had gathered. Aphra. Bryiath. Jormungand, a notable guest. A growl began to rumble from deep within. Pent up frustrations lashed out at Jormungand and he shot forward. His jagged claws attempted to grab at the other male's throat and push him to the floor, pinning him down by the throat. "Get rid of the body," he snapped. "You are a guest to the Coalition of the Condemned. This is not a free pass to kill-" A dramatic gesture of his free paw signaled out towards the colorful, stained body. "-our enemies."

For a moment, his periwinkle hues turned back towards his fellow wanderers. He lingered on Aphra mainly, only to whip back around. Sharp claws attempted to dig into further into his skin. "Keep your business off our territory," he viciously snapped. Any bloodshed that came from this would be Jormungand's fault.

Whether or not the panther agreed, he'd eventually pull away with a huff. Romulus doubted that his sister would agree with her brother's actions, given her deranged mindset, but he knew that this was the right choice... even if it was partially fueled by his own.