Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-37629772-20190728101720/@comment-37629772-20190813125510

(Aww man, but in all seriousness, stay safe on the job if you're dealing with that type of stuff.)

They came across another cave painting, even more detailed than the last, with whiskers, fur and much more added to it. It appeared to be another Werecat, filled with a lovely pink chest except that wasn't the only pigment that filled it's insides. Although one could easily brush it over, there was a touch of crimson dead centre in the middle.

"You know how Theo appeared to have no intention of harming another living soul before that Holstaur accidently caved Lulu's chest in? Ok, I wouldn't exactly use accidently but I'm sure she didn't intend to cause that much damage..."

The shaman picked up a series of coloured, clay-like dust from several bowls surrounding the three, before making remarkably detailed drawings of both Lulu and the Holstaur, with the cowgirl closest to Theo. As the figures sprung to life, they reacted what happened just minutes ago, the Holstaur's rape attempt, her kicking Lulu when the pup tried to stop her and then being horrified with what she has done.

"Well, I've seen exactly the samething that happened to your feline friend, happen in many good monsters before him, it all has to do with this, this little cursed speck of impurity!"

The Shaman streched a boney finger to point at the red pallet in the Werecat's chest, as it stared at the Holstaur's back in shock and then....anger.

"Although it's often rare, if an old world monster is put through enough emotional distress or is made significantly furious, a monster can lose control of it's feelings, which allows the demonic energy of old to course through it's body, invading it's mind, blinding it to it's actions and take control. I'm no expert on emotions, but I imagine watching one of your only few friends possibly die infront of you because of some random woman's sex drive would tip someone over the edge..."

The once tiny trickle of red warped and twisted, becoming much larger and more volatile as it took the shape of a mass of snapping jaws, swiping claws and frightening caws until there was no more pink, only a deep scarlet in the body and especially in the Werecat's eyes. It's claws unsheathed as it leapt towards the cow girl, but before it made contact, the shaman wiped his wing against the wall, making them vanish into nothingness.

He took a deep inhale and exhale.

"I've seen some monsters that really meant well go berserk because of our heritage. I've seen an Ogre that once looked over an entire neighbourhood's kids paralyze a group of attempted kidnappers from the neck down, a Minotaur that sent an entire street gang to the hospital because they made an attempt on the life of the one person that showed kindness to him and......I've...even been a victim of this sickness....."

The Werebat stopped paying attention to the two dogs as his breathing become noticeably more and more tense as he wrapped his claws over his head, leaving enough room for his eyes see through the gapes between his fingers.

"He was just doing his job...........He was....just doing his job.......He was......just....doing his job."

He repeated those lines again and again, as tears rolled down his cheeks. Without context, one would think he was a shell-shocked war-veteran, that's seen his entire squad get mowed down in front of his eyes.

Although the light bearly showed the writing, Roxy could see scratched out on the floor "I'm-" leading away from the group, into another part of the factory.