Much like a coma victim, blood frenzy could often be broken by a familiar voice or sound. Chris had been tearing his way down the corridor, already having ripped up a couple of gas-afflicted Purgers, when he heard Ptricia yell out after him. He stopped, blood dripping from his muzzle, and turned slowly around, eyeing the sphinx through his red-tinted vision. When she called out again, a name wormed its way into his frenzied brain and acted almost like a coolant, calming the rage slightly. He padded over, snuffling and growling, and nosed her gently, still in a feral state, but not about to frenzy again.