Burning Under the Skin

He would lose himself in the wychwood. Moving and working about it. He needed the work and the practice with the blaze. The manifestation of his rage and his hate! He moved the fullness of that terrible anger and hate about him, directing it most fully in his right arm. The blaze burning hotter and more terrible, even as it pained and burned him, he would give a scream, slashing and tearing at yokai with the burning arm.

The arm was singing and hurting, but he would ignore it. He would focus on the pain and the damage to his arm. He would focus the fullness of his anger and his hate, the rush and the energy that came from it, moving it into his arm. And when the rush was over. He could continue to feel it. It wasn't the pain and it wasn't even the scars that found themselves now upon his arm.

No it was the terrible fury. It was like a fire danceing INSIDE his skin. It was something terrible. It was something that itself was unique and different. It was together unsettling and invigorating. He needed to continue his work...  his study. And in his arm was something writhing and moving. A feeling to breathe free. A feeling to take and drink deeply of the darkness and blood that his fury demanded whenever he was in the heart and heat of battle.

He gave his arm a stretch. It felt normal... except for the skittering. The movement of blood was normal, but there were ants and a feeling in his arm. He couldn't quite shake it. He was sure that it was fully in his mind... but it was too real. It was too continuous. He would cover the arm in bandages, but it was still encapsulated. It was still lively.

But he enjoyed it. He loved the feeling that it brought. It was more than just warm blood moving through him. It was the feeling of his intense and virulant call for blood. He gave a laugh as he looked about... this was both a great and interesting development.
(Malus)