Spent the day patrolling the outer sectors. The scent of human encroachment is getting stronger, a poison on the wind. It puts me on edge, sharpens the senses. This tension needs an outlet. When I get like this, I crave the raw simplicity of instinct. Pinning a willing partner against the wall, feeling their spine arch as my knot swells and locks inside them. The brutal, undeniable truth of it. No human lies, no politics. Just the pounding rhythm of flesh, the guttural sounds of being taken completely, the mess of it all. It’s the only thing that quiets the rage. A reminder that some things are pure.