Black Morass Do you ever feel like falling for someone you never thought of falling for?

Ramsay grunted uncomfortably as he worked his bony hips against the back of a fallen, recently killed ferruginous hawk. He did it more out of compulsion than anything—something in his animal brain told him to, so he did—but it came with sensations he found uncomfortable, and so he warred within himself about whether or not to stop. The compulsion, like a horrible itch, wasn't satisfied yet.

So Ramsay, conflicted, continued to grind against the hawk, itching the scratch that was a need to dominate something whilst ignoring the other scratch that his body wasn't yet prepared for. It was his first kill—his kill—which brought out the dominant behaviour. Sure, the hawk had had a broken wing and was easy pickings, but he'd never before killed a prey animal, had never felt the rush in his blood as his predator instincts took over. It mounted in his brain along with the stress and exhaustion and drove him into a more feral mindset than he was used to.

As he glared into the dark morass, torn between continuing or stopping, a thin line of drool dripped from his lips onto the dead hawk's lolling head.

AW, Ramsay feels dominance drive and lust (in the form of bloodlust) for his first time, pardon weird behaviours.