His determination to get to her clouded his judgement. His body screamed at him to halt his movements, but he barreled forward. His paws were heavy. He had felt a rage hot within him when the cat attacked. He felt the control of demons upon his body. An overwhelming desire to kill. He wanted to destroy the cat and rip it bit by bit. But it was not to be so. His left shoulder did not allow him to run fast enough to catch the cat. It still let him walk- and walk he did. All the way from Asteraia to Taviora.

He did not like the grasp of the dark thoughts and scream in his mind. He knew not that they were the voices that screamed inside his father. They were not there all the time, but they were here now. They were not always voices...but feelings, without words. He did not wish them to continue, but he knew not how to rid his red-hot rage. At least, not for sure.

He knew that he wanted to see her. He wanted to see the dark girl in the forest. He wanted her to have an answer for him. He simply felt that she would. Thus, he walked immediately after the attack with blood now drying on his left side. He had a rather nice open wound on his side by his shoulder in a line from the cat's claws. It yowled at him to stay still and lick his wound, but his desire to find her was stronger than the pain.

He did not move fluid. Instead, his movements were rigid, and as the adrenaline wore off he started to favor his right side more. He did not stop to look at his wound. His lively red eyes were glued forward to where he was going, and finding the path with the least resistance to his goal. It was getting late by the time the trees of the forest began to populate the land. He slowed his pace, his tongue hanging from his mouth now.

He lowered his haunches to the ground, and leaned on his right side. He lifted his left leg from the ground, but the pain still remained. He growled slightly, turning his head to see the blood he was smelling the whole time. His wound was no longer bleeding significantly, other than little bits here and there from when he would tear it on the way here. He reaches over to lick the wound once or twice.

He did not wish to bring attention to himself, but how else was he to find her without penetrating the strong smell of pack that is not his? He knew not exactly where she was, and he felt frustrated. He growled loudly to himself, before getting up with a snarl. He marched into Taviora- heading towards where he simply...felt she might be. His form was determined and fixated despite his injury- and his eyes of red only accentuated this.