cut our teeth and make our bones right here

Remi

Welcome to the wild, no heroes and villains
Welcome to the war, we've only begun

'You know, with certain dogs once it is cut too short it doesn't grow back.' The wendigo murmurs, and though he isn't sure where wendigos fall in terms of taxonomy, he does think he's perhaps slightly closer to some sort of canine or vulpine these days than he'd previously been.

The shine of the knife catches the predator's attention almost instantly, and though the only blood he can smell is that which is slowly being transferred into his veins via the IV, he can feel things stirring in the back of his mind.

Silent, if only because he'd not downplay the seriousness of the moment with small talk, the wendigo watches Isla out of the corner of his eye before turning his head straight forward. There's no point in telling Isla that he could kill her before the sedative took hold. No point in telling her that there was a good chance he could make it to her before she could even pull the alarm, either.

Nodding, the wendigo closes his eyes. He can practically hear the sigh as several layers of thin skin part beneath the sharp point of the lancet. The smell of blood is immediate, and though Remi had every intention of remaining motionless, he shifts on the bed. One arm tenses as his chin juts out slightly. Opening his eyes, Remi pulls the IV from his arm and lets it drop onto the bed before prowling across the room and toward Isla. The gold of his eyes is like a ring given how wide his pupils have become, and gods if the pounding of her heart and thrumming of blood in her veins isn't nearly as exquisite to the wendigo's senses as his time with Ronin had been.

Slowly, and without actually looking at Isla, the wendigo reaches out for her hand. "Do you trust me?" He asks again, voice low and rough.

Higher and higher you chase it
It's deep in your blood, go and take it

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!