Blackfeather Woods to thirst, to crave

To see is to devour the strange man says, only irritating the brute further as he seemed to enjoy the situation more so than Rosencrantz was - though that seemed to be rather normal lately. Even as his teeth sunk into the man, tearing at his flesh and muscle there was no flich or weaning in his demeanour. One of those, he thought to himself. Fucking masochists, they were always difficult to fight.

Holding on, the paladin chewed and tore at his target, working his way up with every little crunch he managed to do (unless Monty pulled away). It was the pain that caught him on the spot, a burning sensation near his ear that held him in one position, something didn't feel right there - but there was no time to be thinking about it. 

With a snap he aimed another bite a little higher, toward the jugular of the bastard. From chest to jugular wasn't that big of a leap and so he felt confident enough at this moment, lunging forward with every intent to kill.