Kitty, however, skittering over to the King and weaving between people's legs, had an easy question to answer -- which was great, considering she was definitely still high on the adrenaline of the whole thing. "Because it's fun!" she declared loudly. "Because it's chaotic and wild and wholly unpredictable! It's the very essence of the Void!" She was panting hard, her tail curling around her as she glanced bright-eyed and happy at Madhukar. "Usually it ends in a meal, which is never a bad thing."

She was rarely so outgoing. Rarely so relaxed, too. Kitty was usually shy and skittish, but the exhilaration of running and losing herself in the chaos was filling her with something warm and bubbling. It was the same stomach-in-your-toes feeling of freedom she'd felt when she was flying as the arm-monster, the same anxiety clawing up your spine in that moment you jumped when you weren't sure if the branches would catch you. Kitty said, her voice smaller now but no less sincere, "Because it feels like flying, even if you're scared to make that first leap."

The Hunt was alive in the cat, stirring it and moving it like a mindless hound after its prey. There was no bliss in the apathy to all other aspects of life. The very concept of "bliss" was forgotten entirely, in favor of the goal. The cat wished to commit a violent act -- it lived for that now. It longed for that destruction so hard it hurt. That pain was the commanding word that guided. It was everything she would have feared, but that fear was taken as well. Apathy. Entropy. The cat was part of a cycle now. There wasn't much else to say.

When it finally ended -- not just the Hunt but the predatory drive -- everything returned in nigh perfection to Madhukar. Immediately, she was hit with a tsunami of panic. Her destruction, her complete loss of mind and heart. Her will, the sheer force of it, might as well have been the only thing in her body to prove of her being alive. It had barely felt like her and yet it didn't feel far from the truth, and that terrified her. That's what came next: fear. It had been taken, in the moment. The fear that protected herself and those around her -- she had summoned lightning, she had summoned lightning, HAD SHE--?

With fear came the impulse to run away.

Later on, Madhukar would heed the call of those who had started this. They were asking for an explanation. Great. Madhukar had supported the Hunt from the very beginning, a decision she would be regretting for a long, long time. Still, due to her choice, the question she had to answer was that last one: "Tell me why you love the hunt!" The pride in it disgusted her. The question itself, the phrasing, was revolting.

Kitty's answer was so... what did she turn into? What monster could possibly be brought out of her? None. She had nothing to fear.. Maybe that's why her answer was... her eyes... Madhukar couldn't return that gaze. She couldn't look. She didn't want to see it or feel it or hear it.

Madhukar did not love the hunt. There was no feeling of flying, or hunger in the physical sense. She had not joined this side out of love. Really, she had joined out of loss. Stumbled into it through a fog, a haze. She had joined it because she had just joined Sunny under essentially an oath of pacifism and now Sunny was gone and she felt like she could do whatever she wanted-- no-- like she was free to be the fiend she had always wanted to be-- no-- because she felt a NEED to HURT THINGS, because she had NO REGARD FOR THE LIVES OF OTHERS-- NO-- BECAUSE THE ONLY TWO EMOTIONS MADHUKAR COULD EXPERIENCE WERE HATE AND APATHY AND SHE WAS A DANGER TO PEOPLE, SHE WAS A DANGER TO--

'Stop running away from the truth, Madhukar. Be honest. You LOVE the Hunt. You have a reason. Say it. Say it out loud.'

The Hunt had shown her everything she didn't want to be. 'No.' She regretted her decision and she wished she had grown enough of a brain or a spine or whatever she needed to pick the right side-- 'Absolutely not. You're not looking at the other side Madhukar. You're turning away from it. You're a coward. Why did you do it? What did you LOVE about the Hunt?'

"I wan'ed... to feel power." A lump was building in her throat. 'And?' "This made me feel tha'." She felt like she was choking. Seething. Like Kitty's very existence had turned into a wildfire, tearing at her flesh with visceral fury. Madhukar was charring under the fire of attention, eyes and ears, and-- and-- and was it lie or truth? She couldn't... she couldn't tell.

Think "Speak"

V-Chaos-Two panted as they kept running, their steps turning into a jog, then to a limp. They leaned heavily on their staff as the feeling that drove them to run ebbed away, legs quivering with exhaustion and pain. They shook his head and snorted, taking a few meager steps, quickly realizing that it was over.

Thank God.

They limped towards the Kings and carefully sat down, wincing as pain shot up their spine. They eased down slowly until the weight was off their second hips, a relieved sigh leaving their mouth.

"... I know what it's like to have all the odds against you," they said, "I know what it's like to be weak. To be surrounded by those stronger than you, to feel their eyes upon you. I was prey from the moment I was born, fighting for my place in life. If I hadn't proved useful or impressive, like the Quarry today, I would not be here."

V-Chaos-Two stood and looked down, since they wouldn't be able to meet anyone's eyes anyway, "Perhaps it was to help someone else who felt such a way, to prevent them from feeling that way again."

They had no name, they weren't a fighter. In all senses (at least to Vargas), he was useless. Even against newborns, he was useless. Soft and fleshy, a teddy bear, not a weapon. They'd long since accepted that fact, but they would still fight against it, demanding that no, they weren't useless, they weren't a failure, that they deserved a name like all of these free Gembound. This was a cry of rebellion, in a way.

Their fate was their own to decide.

James came to a slow stop, chest heaving, sweat gleaming on his flanks. He let out a whoop of joy and reared, front legs kicking at the air as his wings flapped. He landed and tossed his head, giddy. The Quarry had escaped!

"We did it," he said, exhilarated, confidence through the roof, "We did it!"

He turned to see Tahi and Comet, a huge grin on his face. He galloped towards them and grinned, proud of himself.

When they were called to the Kings, he followed, and stood before them with the others, his eyes glistening.

"... I did this because I wanted to help," he said, "I'm done running from things. I'm done being sad and angry, I want to help people and I want to prove to myself that I'm worth it."

And he had. He felt worth it. Now he had something to think about when felt down, felt like the worst of the worst. He felt accomplished and proud of himself, and worthy.

Comet watched as the Quarry escaped, and smiled. She was not one of those who helped, but James was, and she was happy that he had achieved his goal. "Good job, renny!" then she turned towards the Three Kings to answer them herself.

She paused to collect her thoughts before responding. Why had she not helped? Perhaps it was the fact that it was between hunter and prey, and she was a hunter herself. Comet knew from experience that it was frustrating when your prey escaped, especially if it were by luck, not skill. But then why didn't she help the hunters? Well it wouldn't be fair to the prey then, if the hunters caught them with help. So she guessed this all rested on one thing. "Balance." Comet said, "It doesn't feel fair to help either side, especially in a hunt." If it were a different circumstance she would have helped. "It is best not to interfere in such things." And that, was her answer. James thought differently, and he had his own reasons, which was fine. She knew he was not a hunter. Comet helped others, yes, but this was one situation where helping would not be good.

Something changed, the deer could feel it. Hear it, too. Aran himself didn't much care for who won or lost, it was nature that would decide such things, even with the gembound being involved. Perhaps that was why he sat out and instead watched (listened) to the commotion. He was starting to feel normal, now. Perhaps that was because the hunt had ended? The deer wanted to feel that again sometime. Though only the thrill of a hunt could replicate that feeling.

Come to us.

They wanted everyone to explain why they did what they did.

"Nature will take its course on its own. I do not wish to rush it, that is why I only observed." The deer decided.

It was over. Attikias's adrenaline was up for a good time after the end, his muscles twitching and his mind in action as he calmed down. He'd found a place to sit, to recollect himself, to... Oh, shit. He needed to find Null. Grumbling, he rubbed his hands over his face as he caught his breath.

He'd returned to action after calming himself down, the voices running into his head and calling him. Was that..? He rumbled again as he shoved to his feet, planting both hands on his hips before making his way to the perched kings. A question came his way, alongside the others gathered, and the elf craned his head up to watch.

Why help? Attikias let others speak first before adding his own voice, speaking loudly up to the kings. "I don't know what they were after, out of the prey, but-" He halted, letting himself think. Why didn't he hunt, too? "It seemed unfair. That many people, after someone so defenseless? No chance to explain themselves? There was no chance for them to defend themselves, not alone. It looked like a hunt for sport."

He felt childish, explaining this point of view, but as he spoke with his hands out he found himself believing it. No longer was he the man who would hunt without purpose, and the fleeing creature- whatever glimpse he got of it- was terrified, fleeing away from jaws that wouldn't hesitate to rend it to pieces.

Suddenly as she was swept into the euphoric crowd, she was jolted from it.

An icy sensation shot quick through her Oil-black veins, her limbs; and, any compulsion her Chaos-addled mind ordered them to carry out was suddenly null. Some external influence had entered into them, and she fumbled in the landing. The hook of her chin crashed into the floor first, and then the rest of her in a somewhat comic slide. Hussaresque wings flailed stiffly in the descent, like they could solve what disobedient legs wouldn't.

Her limbs—HERS!—carried her to a ruin, and in a shambling step had the entire place collapsing on her.

No sooner than her being allowed control of her body again did Draconua writhe and twist in place. The very bottoms of her capability were scraped as she hauled herself up, clawing for a view of what she was missing: the Hunt's conclusion; the thrum of pity unbidden; the face of whatever had dared. She hissed as the stones around her rattled, barely suppressed pressure in the air exploding at her command. They blew away with the force.

At that point, though, the monstrous Hound was truly spent. No longer could the thrill of adrenaline or entropy sustain her. Her limbs were heavy as she shambled from the blast radius; that racing mind of hers slowed to a painful crawl. Oil started to dribble down from fresh burns again.

The Sleepless Chaos did not join the lingering crowd, and any fool that dared to make an approach for something as silly as healing or conversation was met by snapping teeth and bristling hide. No, she simply stood on the sidelines as a silent, terrible revenant.

"Explain to us your choices," the Kings sang, and those present answered. All their answers were paltry and soft; even those it'd thought was among Vargas's own. Those had run alongside the prey at the end, one with the aid of a stick. Draconua did not care enough for them to concern herself with those answers.

Instead, she fixated on Attikias, a thinly-veiled sneer crossing her maw. "Life exists to be consumed by the mighty," came that rasping, screamed-hoarse voice, "we eat to survive. Chaos destroys to sustain." There, she paused, gazing off elsewhere into the crowd, teeth baring in a lopsided, exhausted snarl. "I ruin those in my way."

There was no way for her to know that it had been Pride gripping her. For his sake, she should never find out.

For the birds, though, she had no response, bar "it reminded me of how existence should be." Why did it end the moment she was incapacitated?

Pride approached, confusion in his face, his movements. What had all this been about? But here it was: test, perhaps? The Three Kings were speaking, and he paused, standing quiet to listen to the others answer.

He eyed Draconua sidelong; though she was bellowing, even she had stopped to answer. A test, then, yes, he realized, and felt mightily embarrassed. Had everybody known but him-? Or had this been a surprise to all of them?

"I apologize if I--interfered. I thought someone was in danger, and I did not want... a repeat of Raheerah's attack," he offered, glancing with some consternation, yet apology indeed, up at the behemoth to one side. "If--you do choose to do something like this again... in Orion, could you warn me, perhaps, in advance? We--the Seven--are guardians here, and I--had no idea." You scared the shit out of me, was what he actually thought, his heart still thundering in his chest.

Warrior came up at a trot, nostrils flaring. Ears flicked this way and that, his body never quite ceasing its subtle movements--prancing, panting, turning to peer at the others. The adrenaline was only now wearing off, leaving in its wake shaky exhilaration--not altogether pleasant.

He gave the Kings a deep nod. "I also know what it's like to be pursued," he told them. "I know things have to eat... meat, at times. But that doesn't mean I like it." His mind flicked back to his first experience with a carnivore--a small, friendly one, whose sudden display of happily swallowing a baby Quillmouse whole had left him absolutely horrified. "I pity them." This addition was abrupt, but honest, and he nodded a little as he said it.