Gat sort of wanted to watch Johanna. Vicious looked good on her, he decided. But the meal under his hands was squirming and really just demanding his attention. The other guy had backed himself up to the wall, as if trying to disappear. Gat kept an eye on him, even as he bit down on his friend. He was freaked out, murmuring jibberish to himself as he slowly sank to his knees. Killing him might really be the more charitable thing to do, after all that he was seeing.
And then the blood rushed him and took over, and he felt the world slip away, reduced to the crimson flow into his mouth. The meal was high on some kind of mood enhancing drug, and damn, it felt good. Pulling off about half a minute too soon, Gat felt invincible. he dropped the boy, leaving him to writhe and moan until the blood loss officially did him in. Sloppy, maybe, but Gat didn't care. He could easily crush the thug's skull, if he wanted. For the moment he was enjoying the muted sounds of terror and death.