Movement below. There would be death soon.<br/><br/>He had not flown far to escape the poisoned land around the Temple, to find a place green, flourishing with life; though time seemed to move different in the ethereal space between cloud and treetop, the limber beat of the muscles anchoring his wings told him he had not been in the air more than 40 minutes. He had woken much earlier than usual, and for this reason alone; while others dined in the Hall, he would be far from them. Far from the temple. Far from the secure but suffocating trappings of civilization, however meagre, that had been slowly suffocating him. As much as the temple was his home, some other part of him called to a distant place, an untamed place; it seemed to be growing stronger in recent times, but it could easily have been his imagination- even before his change, he had never stayed in one place for too terribly long.<br/><br/>But that yearning brought with it something else, too, something altogether more worrying- Something that butcher-cut flesh served on a table could not satisfy. Swiftbeak felt a tinge of guilt for succumbing to his instincts, even just this once, but he knew the mission ahead would be long and trying- And it would be better to do this now, in privacy, then risk the trust or lives of the Brothers.<br/><br/>Movement, again. Between the trees.<br/><br/>He descended, throwing a shadow over the forest below; his eyes focused in like an archer staring down a notched arrow. A deer- A doe, even, cautiously and graciously trotting through the woods. The trees around her were thick and dense, but to the east they thinned considerably; he banked to the west. Descent, again, until he could feel the brush of pine on the bottom of his paws. A shriek, monstrous and loud.<br/><br/>The doe ran. Sprinted, to the east, away from the sound; away from the safety of the thicker brush. The creature above did not dive; it flew, steady and easy. Each second the hapless creature below bled away more of its energy, worked more of its muscle; by the time it had been driven into the wider trees, it was slowing. It heard no more sound. It slowed, to a trot. It was given one second of peace, one second of security, of obliviousness; this was Swiftbeak's final gift, his payment for all he was about to take.<br/><br/>The thunderous crack of dozens of breaking branches and the impossibly loud reverberation of a heavy body crushing bone- The gryphon's hindpaws fell on the doe's hindquarters, at once driving it to the ground and condemning it. Less than a second later, Swiftbeak's talons sunk to the ground around its neck.<br/><br/>He felt it breathe.<br/><br/>Wounded, bloodied, broken inside; death inescapable. It had no chance nor strength to survive, and still it drew breath. The gryphon felt the creature in its claws shivering, retching, one mangled hind-leg scrabbling pitifully at the dirt. Swiftbeak couldn't help but wonder if his end would be so pitiful, so fervently denied; if he would soar to his death head held high, or fall to land bleeding and choking in the dirt.<br/><br/>Such thought vanished. ALL thought vanished.<br/><br/>And now he was very much a monster, in mind and body- For the horrible truth was that he did not black out, he did not simply become an animal; his thoughts remained, but they turned to bloodlust. They turned to power. They turned to how he was a predator, how he held the power of life and death, how, so unlike that fateful day when he tumbled from the chapel tower, malevolent stone artifact clutched in his hands, he felt utterly invincible.<br/><br/>The doe shuddered, again. No- It would not die a peaceful death. It was prey. It had been caught. Bloody was its end; bloody would his talons be.<br/><br/>Swiftbeak tightened his claws, feeling them draw around the flesh of the doe's neck... And then squeezed them shut. Keratin pierced skin, then flesh and muscle, then vertebrae. The wet, sinewy crack of throat tearing and bone crushing drew a rumble of hunger from his stomach. A final shudder, and the doe was dead. Its life, its flesh, its blood- All his. As it should be. His beak dove down into the doe's body and wrenched the ribcage open, and he began his gory feast.<br/><br/>It would be a scant few minutes later that he'd finished stripping the carcass, and set about to find water to bathe himself in; it would not do to return to the brothers bloodied. He was confident he timed it well- He should be returning to the grounds near the time the others finished their breakfast.<br/><br/>By then, it would have faded. He was a man, again; a man in another body, but a man nonetheless. And, as he thought back on the urge that had drove him out here, and the redness that stained his talons, he was very much a scared man. He had feared death, once; he had begged to be spared it, and something terrible had listened. But no, he did not fear death now.<br/><br/>He feared what may happen should he continue to live.