Something was wrong. He was not himself. Thoughts of blood and murder and torture plagued his mind more and more. When the sadistic thoughts first began to enter his mind he pushed them away, was ashamed of the images that would come to him when he dreamed. But now, now they were something he relished. Something he wanted to happen, something that he wanted to make happen. To make others hurt and bleed the way that he hurt. To take his anger and frustration and pain out on those that were weaker than him, those that were useless and meaningless. The only thing that still bothered the titan was what his father would have thought if he was still alive. And what his brothers would have thought, if they were still around. The brute was not raised to be a murderer and torturer, but that’s what he felt like now. Even though he had not actually committed the crimes he dreamed of he wanted to, desperately wanted to. Mad thoughts plagued him, and now they were beginning to happen when he was awake and not just dreaming. Grey Wind was beginning to go insane.

The desire for blood and pain consumed him as he walked through the trees of his territory. He needed something to distract himself, needed a purpose. He would have to find Kershov again, beg him to send him out to do something. Or he might end up hurting himself in his deranged state. The brute snarled at nothing, snapping aggressively at the smaller branches of trees that were hanging down, needing to sink his teeth into something or he would start sinking his daggers into his own flesh. He needed something to make himself feel alive. And so he began to run, his speed causing his pelt to ruffle as wind whipped through his fur. With teeth bared he ran away from the lands of Abendrot, needing to have a little bit of time on his own to try and fix his head. He felt like the next being he met he would sink his teeth into, would tear their skin from their flesh, would kill them and hurt them.

With these thoughts of madness running through the brute’s mind he caught the scent of a familiar lupine, one of the few that would make him want to stop running. Aerten. The cheeky female that so often got his blood burning in a different way than normal. A lust filled smile forced its way upon his kissers and he directed himself in the direction of her scent. He realized that his form was being led to Staircase Falls as he weaved swiftly through the trees. His bodice became covered in sweat as he continued to run, tongue coming out from his mouth so he could breathe more easily, panting slightly. Grey Wind reached the spot where Aerten was in a short time, slowing his pace down to a walk as he stepped through the trees. As he began to approach her a lazy grin appeared on his features before he froze. Another scent reached his nares, the scent of another pack. The scent of SawTooth reached his nares and the sense of betrayal welled up in him. She had been to another pack, or had been with a lupine from another pack. How could the russet female have done something like that to the pack and Kershov? A snarl appeared on his features and he growled, deep from his throat. He knew that she had no commitment to him specifically but for some reason his mind twisted things into thinking that she had betrayed him personally. And without thinking Grey Wind hurled himself at her, wanting to punish her for what she had done. He told himself his actions were for Ker, imagining the rage the white czar would feel if he knew where one of his assassins had been.

Grey Wind moved quickly, wanting to hurt the female before she had a chance to react, but really he should know better than that. The brute knew that Aerten was a superb fighter and would be evenly matched against him. She was no weakling, her form well-muscled and strong, but he had thrown reason aside and was just acting. For a moment he forgot who the femme was before him and he wanted to kill her, slowly, but kill her all the same. And so his form lunged at the female, hoping to knock her down and force his body on top of hers, to overpower her. He knew she would fight back, would not lie there and beg him to stop, but that’s what he wanted. He wanted someone to be at his mercy, to beg for their life, beg him not to hurt them anymore. The warrior snapped at the femme, wanting his teeth to sink into her flesh. ”Why the fuck is there another pack’s scent upon your pelt?” Vocals roared out of his throat, needing an explanation from the female he was attacking, knowing that no matter what she said he would still be pissed off. Would still want to hurt her and make her bleed. But these thoughts distracted him from paying attention to how Aerten was going to react, most likely getting himself hurt.

OOC: I hope I didn’t god-mode at all, very sorry if I did and you can change it up if need be =) I just got carried away with his crazy ass >< Feel free to put his dumbass back in place, he needs to get hurt or something to get him out of his stupid slump that he’s in!