Razorback Ridge arsonist's lullabye

The itch was stifling. It burned at him at an increasingly alarming rate, yet there was little he was able to do about it. The issue was in the inability to find a victim; most simply diverted their path when seeing him walk their way, and while only mildly annoying at first, soon became tedious and rather inconvenient. He made a point not to pursue kills in the radius of established packs, which also came as a burden to him when in nearly every direction he turned, there one was. Vaati knew he would need to provide a solution soon, unable to tell what the consequence would be for neglecting the innate need he felt. The only time he had done so, he had been running for his life, and it wasn’t like he was letting that happen again.

Instead, he hunted. Constantly. He hunted when he wasn’t hungry, saving away the kill in caches throughout the flatlands. Vaati did not anticipate needing it again, but he figured it would be more than suspicious for the surrounding inhabitants to suddenly come upon large pieces of prey simply abandoned in numbers. In his jaws he currently gripped the leg of a yearling doe; it had been small for its age and too easy to take down, and its colourful ichor stained brightly against his washed-out pelt. If any loner was looking to steal it, it would be no loss to him but rather, a reason to further satisfy his need to kill. @Grezig