[A small, more coherent sliver of him wishes Cedrik wouldn't have run. Whatever is in him--no, he knows what it is, his Shadow--becomes riled at the sight of prey fleeing. It's very much like the Noble side of him, and it frightens him, if he's honest. Not being a vampire, but not being able to control the bloodlust.
His body moves without his consent. He sprints after Cedrik, too fast and too graceful, fangs growing long, scent turning sharper. A heavy, icy, powerful weight swells up as darkness behind him, chasing the edges of him, following him. The corn stalks he passes quickly shrivel and wither away, becoming husks. Any lingering foliage on the ground grows dark as it dies.
The deep, prideful voice in him cheers him on over the sound of the old one pleading with him to get a hold of himself.]
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His body moves without his consent. He sprints after Cedrik, too fast and too graceful, fangs growing long, scent turning sharper. A heavy, icy, powerful weight swells up as darkness behind him, chasing the edges of him, following him. The corn stalks he passes quickly shrivel and wither away, becoming husks. Any lingering foliage on the ground grows dark as it dies.
The deep, prideful voice in him cheers him on over the sound of the old one pleading with him to get a hold of himself.]