When in Doubt, We Cull

Trapped between the two of them, the sheep was becoming a mangled mess of sinew and carnage- blood spilling on the forest floor- coating Zagan’s chest and forelimbs, which heightened the adrenaline coursing through his body. His muscles were growing tense beneath his pelt, his instincts flaring, the hunger to kill all-consuming.

He glanced at Seri, drawn to her in this moment of ecstasy. The clarity in his eyes was gone now- replaced by a malevolent light that no longer reflected the cool, calculated desire to cull for the good of the herd.

This was just one of his many vices. It wasn’t just the kill he craved- but the destruction that came with it- the twisted satisfaction of violence.

In its final moments, the sheep started to panic- the scent of fear heavy in the air, igniting the space with energy. It was the rhythm of a hunt- the synchrony of an impending kill. And Zagan savored every second of it- perhaps too much. He let his guard down, giving the sheep an opening to swing its head in his direction, stabbing into his shoulder with one of its spiraled horns. A sharp yelp left his jaws.

Perhaps it was a good thing- the pain forced Zagan into a clearer state of mind. With a snarl, he shoved his weight forward, trying to throw the sheep onto the ground, where Seri could finish it off before he spiraled deeper into his depravities.

"Zagan Saxe"