Macy had found her way to her feet the moment Kris approached her, having seen the glimmer in her eye. The young mage was bloodthirsty, but not blind- she knew that the ex-princess was up to something. Her own muscles twitched from the proximity alone, so she knew that no good would come of whatever she was scheming. She had taken a share of food that seemed proper; now she wanted to be left alone. Her gaze was effectively drawn from Arguth, but the small pouch of food had remained on the ground as her hands already contained both her rapier, coated with a fresh paint of dried blood, and her dagger. When had she drawn them? The young woman could not remember. Her mind was too clouded by thoughts of Kris- what her dagger would feel like with the point pressed into the supple skin of her neck... She was close enough to see the beautiful red come pouring from her jugular...

Macy froze at the sight of Scar's dagger. She had not even realized herself taking a single step forward. This was getting dangerous. Macy did not wish to hurt her friends, but she could not contain the urge any longer. Scar now appealed to her as a fun challenge - a chase for good prey - and Kris had her title to make the kill so satisfying. Her hands clasped her weapons so tightly that her knuckles were white. Scar's dagger was the only thing holding her back, and she thought through three or four different scenarios where she might disarm him and satisfy this practically painful need. The look in her eyes was wild, and her breathing had become heavy as she bit her lip. Even the slight pain couldn't hold her back any longer- it was too late. [i]I... I can't wait, anymore...[/i]

Just then, something in the air made her stand up from her lowered stance, where she had been prepared to lunge and attack. The atmosphere had shifted, become heavy, and her attention was drawn to the rather large man walking towards her. His steps were heavy, his armor still calling to her as a challenge, but there was something else... A sound? Like bombs going off, each step sent a shiver up her spine. He had such a presence in the room, she wondered if this were even real. A dream, perhaps? Maybe Scar had already knocked her out. The fire she saw glimmered in her eyes, and without meaning to she began to giggle as she looked at him. She was at her limit, it seemed to make her nearly go mad. Still, Macy saw this exactly for what it was- an invitation. The word screamed in her mind, loud and clear, and though the others could not hear it she knew it was a calling she could not refuse. Arguth stood before her, his stomach just begging to be ripped open.

What could she do? Her body convulsed, and she sent a sort of panicked look to Scar- one that begged him to take her out. This newcomer did not know what he was doing. He had not experienced her losing control, before. Scar needed to stop her, before they made an enemy of this guy. Whether or not the fox was able to was a more difficult question, but she felt frantic. There was nothing she could do to prevent what he was calling for. Closing her eyes, she let out a scream, loud and blood-curdling, as she tried with all of her strength to resist... before she lunged forward.

The steel ripped through the flesh of his stomach with such a satisfying noise! It sounded like bells to her, and a warm feeling flooded through her entire being. But oh no, one slice wasn't enough. Having come at him with all of her force, she now twisted the blade and pulled it back out, only to thrust it deep into his stomach once more. Over and over. Again and again. Until she was satisfied, she continued to rip and pull and slice. Macy herself had no ill will for him, but his strength egged her to continue as long as she was able, blood flying and pooling around them. It was a gruesome sight, and through it all she let out a maniacal laugh, her face filled with delight.

Slowly but surely, she grew tired, and with her energy the need to cut drained from her body. Her strikes became slower, and slower, and the joy flitted from her face. The last blow she dealt him was the weakest one- no more than a poke, really, before she stumbled back. Her weapons dropped from her hands, now covered in red, and the red liquid dripped from her hands to show that it was over. She no longer had anything to hold back, but she did not feel satisfied. Rather, her expression was twisted into one of pain, and regret at what she had done, as tears streamed down her face to mix with the blood that was not her own. Her mind filled with thoughts of her friend from long ago, taken too soon, and all she could do was cry at the pain she had brought once again. Macy was not one to show emotion, so this moment would be the first her comrades had seen her truly upset. Her shoulders bobbed with the weight of her actions, as all she could do was cry and stare at her mistake, like a child. [i]What have I done...?[/i]