No, no, no, no they needed to stop—there was blood, they needed to stop. Grabbing Ples wasn’t doing anything so she switched her targets. Casimiro, Casimiro would listen to her. “C-Casimiro!!! Casimiro stop!!!” She didn’t wait for him to try and run after Ples she grabbed Cas’ wrist and held as tight as she could
Casimiro turned and growled at the swan maiden, yanking his wrist free. It was all primal instincts now—the instincts to track and hunt and kill. Tiben was his prey and he would be damned if he was going to let anyone get in the middle of the hunt, not even Odette. He was doing this for her, so she could at least leave him be. As soon as his wrist was free he sprinted down the stairs, his heightened senses leading him statist to where Tiben had ran off to.
He threw open drawers and grabbed what he could; every movement desperate. Nothing lethal by ordinary standards - just stuff he had accumulated for dinner parties that he never hosted. Too bad, so sad. When Casimiro entered the room, he spoke slowly and deliberately.
Leave us alone. Odette gave him the feathers. Well, me, I suppose. He doesn’t know. She wants to help him; be his friend. Mine too.