The smell of blood filled his nostrils, stoking his fury. He growled, baring his fangs, and leaped over the fallen body of his attacker, claws digging into the earth and tearing it apart. More followed. They'd all bleed the same.

His ears flicked at the sound of something whistling through the air and he pivoted, catching his attacker by the throat. The man made a strangled sound, choking and struggling in vain. His jaws clamped around his enemy's skull, crushing it in seconds. The feeling of bone cracking and brains splattering gave him a rush of pleasure, and he spat the remnants of the man's head onto the asphalt, turning to face the next target.

A group came at him, and he growled, crouching. In one swift motion, he leaped into the air, a blur of fur and muscle. His claws tore the first apart, his teeth ripped the second's throat out, and his tail knocked the third into the side of a building. He landed neatly, spinning and tearing the legs off the fourth and last.

Triumphant, Jason stood amid the carnage, letting out a howl of victory. Around him lay the broken remains of the fools that had dared attack his home, the stench of death heavy in the air. He sniffed the corpses, searching for rations, and found a number of things, including jerky, protein bars, and one rare find—a chocolate bar, unopened.

Gingerly carrying the spoils in his claws, he loped back to his lair, finding his charge still there, pale and breathing shallowly. He dropped the chocolate bar, nudged it closer, then nosed at the other's chest, whining softly. Please don't be too far gone. Please eat, he thought. What remained of his humanity, locked away deep inside him, wanted to protect, to save the one person he had left. A trembling hand rose, brushing the fur along his neck. His tail swished and he yipped, his ears perking. Oh, thank f*ck.

Jason wished he could still speak. Wished he could say everything he'd been too cowardly to, back when he was still human.