[i]Hunger.[/i]

Fuckin' hunger.

It had been insatiable lately. Burning to his core, festering in his entire being. He simply couldn't get rid of it, couldn't satiate it. He'd eaten for days straight, and then he simply gave up. For the past three days, he hadn't eaten at all, he just couldn't find the motivation to. His hunger wasn't even slightly relieved by any amount of feeding, and now since he'd stopped eating, he'd started itching. He felt like he was growing, his flesh pushing against his mask, swelling like it was going to burst.

And no amount of souls would be a relief for either. This very moment he could sense a powerful soul off in the distance, but he didn't care. It would be deliciously, but unsatisfying, and it'd just piss him off more.

Goddamnit, it itched. Everything itched now. He felt like his mask was a prison now, holding his flesh in as it sought to burst out from within. His hand clawed across his face once, seeking purchase instinctively before he'd stop, looking at his hand. It knew something he didn't, or rather, hadn't. He knew it now, certainly. The mask had to go. It had to be ripped off. Both hands now clawed at his face, seeking purchase, pulling on the mask. He could feel it prying away from his flesh, joy filling him as he felt his flesh gain release. He felt like he could breathe deeper the more he pulled the mask off. It had to go. Fingers dug in harder, the mask cracking as they pulled it away, before with one final give it would go. Shardfist had enough time to exhale deeply before he was turned into a flare, energy bursting off of him in a huge pulse, as he fell to the sands.