The eyes of a predator, not prey, the small tightening of the jaw when a predator smelled its prey before the prey is seen, the tightening of sinew and tendon at the moment before the predator attacks, and the soft whistle of the blade as it sinks halfway through the flesh and brute strength cleaves the rest of the way, one was made two in a mere half a second. The curve of the lip when the sport was finished. Eyes swiveled from side to side in a 270 degree view of his surroundings. Eyes narrowed to the point of becoming similar to a snake's this irises, ready for the next game to begin.

 Gideon was in utter calm, despite his new surroundings, he was taking part in what he lived for, the underbrush gave away movement in the slightest shake and the scents, stimulated by the moist medium, were sharp upon his nose. Gideon's wounds hardly even smarted anymore and all but his arm had stopped bleeding entirely, becoming of no circumstance to Gideon as he walked and hunted beside Beliya.

 "Why did you come to this school, Beliya? Seems everybody has a story they are often eager to tell." Gideon asks after minutes of silence, his gaze falling upon her head, though she'd have to look up to make eye contact.