His frown deepening, his wings the faired the same as he looked over at Desdemona.
"What do you mean 'more'?"
All he could recall were the faint snippets of memories had hadn't the chance to suppress...
the death..
the blood...
the cries of pain...
the chaos and how it stung at his nostrils, made him rabid and frothing at the mouth, teeth bared with sharp fangs, finger nails dripping with blood...
and his once bright blue eyes having changed to red.
He cringed at the memory, but just as quickly as it came, he tried to push it away.
No... no no..
he wasn't more.
If anything, he felt... less.