Ryoki’s hands had blood on them and his knuckles were bruised, but he couldn’t remember how they got like that. Had that been before or after the attack? Who exactly had he beaten up during his frenzy?

The bull didn’t care, but he’d love to remember because he was those would be beautiful memories. Still in his sadistic madness, the half bull walked through the cave hoping for something. Things were becoming harder because all of Shibusen’s dogs were there, trying to stop them and he couldn’t fight like this; not alone.

“Fuck damnit!” someone had to wield him. Now. If he wanted to kill them, he’d have to be wielded.