[Duce]

What was all the fuss? Michael's brain was a swirling mishmash of wrirling music and colored light that he couldn't quite see, but he knew it was there. Something in his brain was detached, floating. Somewhere among the debris of his melting sanity. Of course, that would be if he actually had any sanity to begin with, and that was a big if.

"Y'liked it.." He murmured, voice somewhere between heartbroken and confused as he watched the bloodied fingers leave his face. He had tasted his own blood- then some other flavors rolled about his tongue, making him clench his knees, feet moving so his toes were braced on the side of eric's seat. He felt like he needed to be in place to pounce- what he wasn't sure. Most of the things here weren't food. They were mostly..things. His head tilted to the side, husky-blue eyes tinted with a brush of amber blush as he looked out into the dim of the room. There were food things..but each of them was taken already. His eyes slid around the room and he would swear he felt his ears flatten a little against his head. No, none of them were his food things.

Eric's last comment made those almost-alien eyes slide back to deep green ones, face open and curious as a slow grin spread over his face. "Meat's always better when it's fresh." What that cryptic phrase meant was anyone's guess, because before he could expand on what would have been a five star conversation- pain sliced through his hide in one cold slow line, drawing; not a moan from his throat; but a languid half growl, the low rumbling tremble of big cats as they slide silken sides together; propositioning and threatening each other at the same time- a sound to illicit fear and excitement in one trilling breath.