Ashan 54 718, Evening
Location: On the way to Cally's
His mind had been racing ever since it almost happened. Not long after sundown earlier he was doing his usual, fraternizing with the locals as it was all part of his job. Yet the last lady he mingled with earlier had to be cut short of their time together, hell he didn't even have a chance to tear any clothes off. Probably because there was an issue at large he never realized, a tiny little misstep could've ended as disastrous as it nearly did in Rharne. He had never forgiven himself for that mistake, and had done everything he could to manage it ever since.
Once he came in possession of Ymiden's ring however the danger seemed less prevalent compared to before, he could easily suppress the urges that were associated with his curse before. Now it seemed... that they were slowly returning to him. It was no surprise as to why now that he thought about it, the ring could only 'cage' the beast within for so long after all. And after what had happened in Southguard somewhere near Etzos, the ring had never been in the same condition since then.
Though light a crack resided over some of the ancient language that glowed faintly, the orange highlight of Ymiden's words slightly darker than their usual colors. This could only mean the beast was getting closer to building overwhelming rage, and granted Ellen'wyn and those in Southguard stopped him mid-transformation... he could only guess that a large amount of the rage had been closed within. He should've paid more attention to it before, to the fact his turn warranted greater caution. Not with those within or around Etzos but with himself also, because if he damaged the ring beyond repair... then how the hell was he to manage containment?
What happened earlier was too close of a call for him, and now that he was more aware he needed to alert another. Likely a bad idea but considering she proved trustworthy enough, Pat moved on his way to Cally's as it appeared they were closing up in a little while. Hopefully. There were still people inside eating when he entered, and while the food smelt delicious it hardly appealed to his current craving. So rather than sit at the table and wait he moved to the area where the kitchen was, and called out the name "Faith?" in question as he popped his head in there. It must've startled the poor Biqaj Trudy as she looked to Patrick quickly, while the chef seemed to curse and hiss something out of the blue from his intrusion.
It didn't take long for him to realize that... what he heard was the result of an accidental cut to the finger, due to the surprise of someone barging in unannounced. There were swears to be sure but Patrick's mind had already blocked them out, as he could already see the very thing his appetite craved. Blood. Immediately his mouth watered as all thoughts were reduced to one as he zoned out, his eyes fixated on the injury as he gripped the doorway tightly to prevent himself from stepping further in. "Don't do it... Don't fucking do it." He urged himself as he felt his own muscles strain to resist, the wood in the door slightly creaked as he fought against the subconscious urges that pulled him forward.
He could feel his heart loudly pound in his chest as his pulse drummed through his entire skull, while his sense of perception seemed vividly drowned out by the one thing that distracted him most.