(Azriel POV)
Azriel watched the scythe come down on the quivering body of the creature and felt sick. This was terrible. She hated what had just happened.
She was shocked at the roughness and darkness of The Blight. Ashmeer seemed to have no qualms doing these terrible things. He actually enjoyed them.
She watched him now, covered in the blood of the creature, and pushing around it's internal organs. As she watched the blood run from the creature she felt another emotion, over and above the revulsion. Something she could not identify, but then it came, stronger and stronger with each passing moment. She tried to suppress it but the urge was over-powering in it's own way. She wanted to leave and walk out, but her hunger was getting the better of her. The tang and smell of that creature's blood and offal had begun to lure her in many ways.
