It was the first moment of his altered existence when he understood what it meant to have the lust of the kill overtake his senses. He'd described the feeling of tapping into his new werewolf traits in detail. Everything around him disappeared as he focused only on killing the weak man in front of him. He felt an obnoxious tug at his arm over and over again threatening to distract him from his task. Fenrir threw his free arm backwards, dislodging the annoyance.