Attikias had been pointedly calm after his interaction with the bird. It gave a sharp contrast to his typically flighty, panicky self, and it was how he acted when he wasn't around others. For once, he sat self-assured as he finished off twisting and curling the rawhide of an old meal into a string.

Speaking of meals, his stomach growled. His face bunched up at the feeling, sighing internally. He was busy. It grumbled again, and this time he stood and let his work down to the floor of his cot, looking to his spear. He'd been defeated by his hungry body; one he neglected for some time now, focused on keeping his mind distracted rather than letting it dwell on previous encounters.

Before grabbing his spear, though, he squatted down to tie up the end of the rope made from the hide of a rabbit. That seemed pretty good enough. Nodding to no-one in particular, he returned and took the spear in hand, ready to trek out on a hunt.

He stopped, briefly. He had his knife he had typically used- what of the Collector's? His eyes were stuck onto it as it laid there on his bed.

Ah, what the hell. It only took him a moment to latch it onto his tied belt before he wandered into the surrounding woods, head lifted as he dug into himself to gather the inquisitive magic needed to find prey.

He huffed as nothing returned. Looks like he'd have to turn to new tactics, slinking forward in the undergrowth with his spear in both hands. He could wait in place for some time- surely a deer would wander by, no?

But the wind was flowing, bringing a cold breeze with it. He could take advantage of that. He took a deep breath as he figured out its direction, then made to walk directly into the flow. There was a spell he'd been working at- slowly, at first, discovering that it could very well alter his color, and he had mind to use it now.

More like it used him, this time. His skin burned as he tried to spread a swathe of dark green across himself, stripping away cells on the skin of his chest. He halted the magic before it had any chance to inflict true damage, but there was a particular red spot there that he hissed at when he touched it.

It wasn't green- more of a lighter shade of his purple-blue, stretching out like a scar vertically between his pectorals. There was no hair- and it almost looked like scar tissue.

Great. Another thing going wrong. Attikias huffed to himself and squatted, prodding at it and testing its limits with cat-like hissing under his breath each time. The pain only existed along the newly formed... Scar? That's what it seemed like to him, but it didn't really resemble any nicks he'd had before.

He shoved the idea of what happened to the back of his mind, trying his best to ignore the dull pain on his chest. Alright, let's try that again, hm? Hopefully no prey heard him grumbling to himself as he closed his eyes and truly concentrated this time.

It worked, somewhat, changing his color tone to the dull green he wanted- perhaps not as strong as he desired, but it'd still work. He didn't stand out much in the first place but the reassurance was welcome.

With that, he continued the way he was travelling, stepping carefully with his spear ready. He'd done this countless times to the point of calling himself practiced, alert and ready for movement. This was his element; he didn't need to think about what'd happened to him, unable to get lost in his thoughts as he could have been.

(m from here on out for gore of hunting/field dressing/butchering)

There. In front of him, grazing at some of the foliage was a brown doe. Attikias was calm when he knelt to the forest floor. As much as he wanted to jump right on it, he knew their speed, knew that he only had a limited time before it smelled him.

Taking in short breaths, the elf lifted the spear over his shoulder and prepared it to launch right into the deer's hide. Breathe in- breathe out. He released the spear with the power behind his arm, watching as it flew true and struck resoundingly in the creature's side.

But it wasn't over yet. The deer was obviously startled, but Attik didn't make a move as it sprinted off, bleating in a panic. It'd die shortly with the spear in its chest, at least- he'd give it that much. A loud thump and a few weakening calls rang out as he stood to follow.

It had weaved through the trees, but the frothy blood it'd left behind wasn't hard to find. He must've hit it in the lungs. The theory proved true as he came around a tree to see it lying on the ground, the thick spear having gone straight in its ribs and piercing into its bleeding body.

It was barely breathing when he arrived. It must've given up quickly, and it barely kicked and looked at him at he grabbed at its head and pulled it back. He had to get this over with. This was one of the parts he didn't particularly enjoy. He could tell the deer was dying in his hands, and the longer he hesitated, the longer it suffered.

The enchanted knife on his belt was quicker to grab than his typically used dressing knife, and so then that's what was pressed against the barely breathing doe. There was no hesitation as he dug it in to cut off the arteries. Not that it was even breathing anymore- he couldn't be absolutely sure that it was the killing blow, but it was close enough that it must have been.

As the knife met its mark, as the last of awareness faded from the doe's eyes, something strange happened.

There was a sound--a soft, pleading cry like that of the deer itself--yet... had it come from her? It was so faint, so brief, it was hard to tell. And then the Blade itself glowed a soft and faint dull blue...

The elf sighed as it was done, but his hairs stiffened as a cry whispered around him. Did the deer not-

It had. It- she laid there, dead now. And the knife had changed, brought up to Attikias's body with a curious hand running over the blue laying underneath red. Hm.

Shaking his head, Attikias wiped the blood off on his pant leg and sheathed it back. With it in place, he drew the one he actually intended to use as he stepped over her.

First things first, he cut a circle around the anus for later- best to keep things clean- before moving on to taking her hind leg between his own two and leaned in over her. It would be better for him to think of her as an 'it', but he wanted to be polite, for an odd reason. Was it the knife? It didn't have any mind-changing qualities, and yet the idea of it got to his head. He should try to understand her as he carved her.

Physically. Taking the skin of her stomach in one hand, he pierced into it carefully with the blade facing up away from her. It glided easily under her, revealing the membrane that laid over her stomach.

It's what he always did. He'd learned his lesson about piercing the stomach paunch early, about firing his spear into it and letting out all the juices in the stomach. Speaking of spear, though- he had mind to pull it out now, whistling softly under his breath at the blood that came from the pierced lung. That must've broken some ribs on the way in. Ouch.

He set aside the spear as he got back to work along the gut, pulling the skin away from her again as he cut into the paunch. With the stomach right there, he had to be careful- the cut went from near her pelvis up to her sternum, and along the way he pulled the knife up against the red and white of her insides.

With that done, he readjusted to kneel between her legs and reached in with one hand, the other with the knife following to cut into the diaphragm within her chest. It pierced with a whoompf and a pool of blood spilling into the cavity- the lung was pierced inside, too.

He reached up nearly to his elbow to get a good grip of the muscle he was after, taking a hold of the heart to pull it away to cut the esophagus and trachea in one hard cut.

Now he could just pull it all out, the blood covered organs spilling out with a few tugs and cuts of attached membranes onto the forest floor below. The slopped to the side- and he reached in to cut the large intestines off. It was soon followed by the anus being tugged out the other end, the remains of the intestines coming out behind her.

She was cleared. Blood splattered along the incision on her stomach, but that'd be washed out when he took off her pelt. Overall? Pretty good job! Attikias sighed with a huff, his bloodied hands on his hips before he bent back into the pile of organs to move them around with various squelches. Where- there, he plucked the heart from it and held it in his hand.

This would be the first meal from her, and he gave his thanks to her silently.

It took some time for him to get her back to the hut. He'd gotten used to carrying the corpses, yeah, but he had to finagle them onto his back like he was giving them a ride after he''d dumped the blood out from her cavity. Even that part wasn't fun; there was never a guarantee that he'd get all the blood out, and nearly every time with these deer he managed to get some splattered on him and mess up his bed.

Speaking of bed, he should probably get something to make it warmer. He didn't understand why the caves were so cold, lately, but it seemed to be just a fact he had to deal with now. Her pelt could be... A cloak? A blanket? Something to burrito himself up in?

It'd be warm, at least.

He was winded by the time he reached his camp, letting the doe down gently by the empty firepit before plopping down next to her. Hoh boy- even for a wildman, that shit's heavy.

His eyes closed as he leaned back on his arms, wheezing into the sky. There was no way he'd ever get used to that weight.