The Tangle Pure intention juxtaposed

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The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: Gore - at least in the first post.

@Priest! - screams internally -

Drip -

Jagged claws dug into the dirt and scraped on the rock as the leviathan slithered through the thorny brush.

Drip -

Crimson liquid training his path as he eerily carved a path through the dense, dark, forest of thorns - for a beast such as himself, such elegant and snaking movement shouldn't be possible, and yet here he was, a nightmare wandering through the moonless darkness. Caked on his maw, dried in lumps of ooze as it fell from his morbid maw, congealed blood bounced with every step he took. 

Thorns softly prodding his skin through the thick coat that graced his wretched being, scraping his skin and softly detangling the knots they found as he brushed passed. Tonight was a night that he much needed, Rusalka had proven to be a much-undeserved headache, and frustration had to be vented out. The poor canine he had come across just moments ago didn't know what hit him... or perhaps her - it was hard to tell now at least.

Behind, in his wake, a mangled corpse of what used to be some kind of canid. Entrails dragged around, bones split and scattered, the head... lost somewhere but the lower jaw easily spotted somewhere in the heap of what used to be life. 

At least what used to be a maddening desire for death, carnage, and screams had been satiated and the man felt a sense of bliss as he aimed his path to return to Rusalkan borders - unaware that he was not as alone as he had thought. Breaking through the thorns into some kind of rocky clearing, cardinal irises took in the sight.