He was within his kill, teeth moving about trying to find something that he wasn't ever sure what it was. His eyes were closed, the still warm encasing of a dead animal all about his muzzle. The one ear upon his head remained limp, lifeless, not catching the sounds that it was supposed to catch. He was enjoying himself too much, well into that bloodlust that was quenched after a fresh kill. Scinfaxi was within his head, off into some stupid trance that made sharing your mind with other creatures a burden. There were words within the madman's head that if it wasn't for the existance of The Unknown, he might of noticed.
'Waddle. Waddle waddle. Waddle waddle. Waddle.' Shut up. 'Waddle waddle, goes the fat pregnant bitch.'
Silence encased his head now, listening to the word pregnant in a sharp manner when a voice awoke him from his high, making actions faster and more alert. His head swings upward, muzzle still encased with dead warmth that was fading fast and a body that was locking away to a cold form that follows death within hours. Her words were all too well known. It brought him to life for a split second, the wound upon his neck errupting with pain that makes him smirk, unbothered and somehow pleased by the pain that can access his brain. However, it comes with a price, allowing The Unknown to break back into his hidden sanity and posion it even more. Movement breaks away from all his body, ear perked forward, green eyes glowing in a radioactive screen as they stare down the girl. Everything about him speaks the same word.
"WHAT?"
Instead of him being able to speak that word, it is The Unknown who gets to it first. It blasts through his head, bringing no movement to the stallion. Scinfaxi tries to break to the machine that would allow him to speak to the man, to give him what to say. The trio already knew too well that having Shajake speak for them was too harsh of a task. It would require them to unmask his dark, deep voice that fell straight out of a horror movie and use it against a pregnant mare. Everyone seems to forget that the disease would always get its way, regardless of the effect upon the body it chose.
"Wh.... What? WHAT?!" His voice bursts through silence and fresh sunlight in attempts to wound her, to break out the emotion that she is clearly attempting to hide. Does the girl feel that he needs to feed off her sickened form and take her child for his own bidding. Maybe. It's an unknown process that works in ways that not even the Gods want to study.
'Give her a gift, Shajake. Girls like gifts. It makes them feel better.'
'Gift' is a word that never existed within his vocabulary, happiness not an emotion known for him to feel. Yet, he had something to gift her with if she really wanted something to ease the tension. His head falls, the thin sheet of black hair falling over bright eyes as his teeth slide over the passing heat of the rodent, taking it within his teeth. When his head rises, he does exactly what he was told to do.
He simply gave her a gift.
In a sick, twisted sort of way that only Shajake could performed.
The rodent is flung towards her, bloody and flying through the air like some sort of sick joke. He stands with a smile, his attempt to ease their tension maybe working for his part, but for the mare, chances would be that it wasn't about to go well. 'Well, girls don't like bloody, dead animals. Flowers next time.' Scinfaxi's advice caused him to snap out of his smile, returning to an emotionless depth that adds to his insanity. For The Unknown, there is Shajake's laughter coming from another body.
"G.... Gif.... Gift." With those words, he leans his head outwards and motions it towards her, single ear flopping about with no polite manner. What a lucky lady she happened to be. She got the cream of the crop, of the insane ones that happened to be.
"talk talk talk"