Yeah, it might be a chance to feed and curry favor.

I spent a little more time in the village, gathering whatever small scraps of information I could about the Witch. Barley village was recalcitrant about mostly everything, but once I made the claim I was after their Witch they opened right up. I got some information about where they probably were, and what hours they tended to be active. Aside from that, I actually got a ratty old pack and a day's worth of hard-tack from a kindly old man.

And then I was on the road again.

While I wandered towards the apparent lair of the Witch, I had to wonder about the morality of my actions. Not really because it mattered to me, but simply because. It was something I did, and nothing more. My ruminations, at least, were a good way to pass the time as I traveled. The sun rose to it's height and then dipped as I walked, it fell with increasing speed, sinking beneath the mountainous horizon.

It was night before I found the landmark I was told to watch for. And it was one hell of a landmark. A great spire of twisted tree and crystal spiraling up into the air; it must have been thirty feet tall, and three meters wide at the base. I couldn't even begin to guess at the source of this thing, or its purpose; if it were natural, or made.

This was where things got difficult, however. The information only said that the Witches minions lurked near this area, not how close they were, or which direction. My hunger, having passed nearly 24 hours without feeding, had started to wreak its changes. Not to the same degree, but there were noticeable differences; My nails had gone to grey, and my skin was starting to lighten, bumps had formed at my temples and my night vision was improving.

I stopped in front of the spire and touched it, running my fingers down the whorls of wood and the little ripples in the crystal. I closed my eyes, focusing on my frustration, on my isolation, my crime, and my 'crimes'. I thought about my unrelenting rage, so new and yet familiar, and on the power in my blood.

Where had it come from? Was it something I had been born with, that had only just awakened? Was it something I'd been blessed with, or cursed with?

I didn't know.

I wanted to.

And the first step would be controlling it, certainly. I would use it again regardless, I had made my choice last night, to stop holding back, so the next logical move would be to master it.

I looked inwards, remembering last night. I thought about the **** and the lust, the pleasure and the release of rage. The satisfaction. I looked at all these things and I found a heat in my heart, the seat of blood and power. That heat sparked to fire, and flowed through my body in a wave of agony. I grit my teeth against the pain, feeling as though I'd been bound to a stake, and tried to draw the fire out. My hunger increased manifold and suddenly I found my senses multiplying by the same order of degree.

An overwhelming stench of **** entered my nostrils, and I could feel a sense of wrongness emanating from a direction. I opened my eyes, seeing my blackened talons as if it were daylight. It seemed better than before, even if I wasn't as hungry. That brightness faded bit-by-bit as the seconds passed, and my talons receded back into sharp claws.

I pushed myself back from the spire, looking towards the direction of that wrongness, and smiled. Found them.