[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 345px][justify][size=7pt][font=georgia]Mkhitaryan didn't acknowledge species when it came to prey; all was obvious when he took down an intruding rouge. To him, it was just a target, now taken down. Shunning the idea of wasting, like nothing, he took a bite from the domestic feline. It wasn't exact cannibalism, but close enough to make weak stomachs churn.
Facing slowly being painted with red, the taste of the metallic yet slightly salt liquid along with the meat kept him eating until he felt as if he had taken his share and filled himself. Mkhitaryan knew to others brave enough feline was the most delectable choice, but over time, it capable of growing on him.
Glancing up, his now crimson colored maw gaped open slightly. The caracals tufted ears were pointed back, observing his surroundings.