Kyrie exited the mess hall, retreating to his room as tears formed in his eyes, ready to fall at any second. Hasty steps were taken to avoid spending a minute longer in a place with no safety. Not that the room felt any safer, but the more civilized part of his brain held it as safer than the mess hall.
His heart pounded with unbearable weight, heavier than normal as he made his way through dark halls, spotting blood stains dragged across the floor—the bodies of the rabbits he had taken back to the mess hall.
His nails painfully itched with a supernatural need to scratch below them. His hands spasmed painfully out of his control, his mouth salivating, and his amber eyes no longer see perfectly in the dark as his vision became blinded with tears.
He stumbled back to "his" room, the painful beats of his heart wrecking many feelings across his body—feelings he didn't want to acknowledge or see but that had come to the surface of his mind and body.
