The Bracken Woods don't look at me

He couldn't stop. Even as he felt the fight leave Runion, he sought to tear deeper into the flesh, teeth working cruelly through various soft tissues— he didn't want to think about it. It registered, at some point, that he was holding his brother by the throat. Right as he felt something loosen, and with one last fierce toss of his head, came away with his prize— and promptly dropped it.
The first thud was loud, brief; the next was much quieter, and chilled him far more. He turned his face away, willing himself not to look at what he'd done. Again. He'd done it again. A sob ripped through him. Trembling, he stumbled towards the plant he'd ripped up earlier, only to stop with a brief, choked cry— the adrenaline was fading already, slowly but enough to feel the agony more intensely, enough to stop him in his tracks. He could only cry, losing blood quickly and covered in both his own and his brother's.