Soah grinned as he tightened his grip on the guard's arm. Soah paid no attention to the man whom ran off screaming, but when the man who had leveled the sword at Soah spoke up, Soah turned his gaze to the man. Soah's previous boyish face was now covered in a good amount of hair, and canine teeth poked out from his mouth. A wicked grin started to spread across Soah's disfigured face. Soah glanced at the guard, and took in the pained expression on the guard's face. He memorized every strain on the man's face. He wondered, momentarily what thoughts were racing through the man's head at this point. Was it thought's of family? Maybe he felt regret for ever signing up for the garrison. Soah reveled in the idea of how distressed the man was. "Looks like it's going to be a closed casket funeral." Soah snarled, his voice deeper than before, and disjointed in speech. Soah raised his other hand, while turning his gaze to make eye contact with the guard with the leveled sword, and plunged his hand towards the guard's throat, whom he still had in his grip. Soah intended to plunge his hand deep into the flesh of the man's throat, and rip out whatever he could, all while staring at the man whom still stood his ground. Soah had almost completely lost himself in his lust for violence. At this point, he couldn't even fully comprehend words, much less be coherent enough to formulate a sentence.