[ Dimitri is doing his best nt to feel overwhelmed; instead, there's a creeping sense of... what? Dread, perhaps? He doesn't know how else to describe it. A sensation of crawling skin and creeping memories. Whispers in his ears that almost catch his attention. He shudders and tries to draw in another breath. He can feel something through their communion and he can't describe that. He clears his throat. Tries to focus. ]

...I think I fear losing control the most. Of becoming little more than a bloodthirsty beast, set solely on killing.

[ His fingers tighten against themselves. ]

Of becoming little more than a killer. of having all of my days reduced to nothing but the scent and taste of blood.