My thoughts were not my own. Only dwelling on the blood I had not gotten to spill. The one who had taken that away from me must have been the enemy. I turned towards the mage, I could not tell who it was and frankly I did not care.
In the back of my mind something tried to break free, frantically trying to stop me, but I had been under the effects of (skill) Ferocity for too long and it seemed the longer I remained under the skills active, the more I would lose control.
I did not have any allies, I did not have any friends, there were only enemies and even as blood seeped from my wounds, I rushed towards the newest enemy, bloodied fangs bared.
My instincts were sharply tuned, waiting for an attack to dodge, but I did not even notice when none came.
My target was just standing still, but that did not matter, there would be no mercy for my enemies.
