The dragon and the vessel of emptiness
Ah, just more art. Her tastes were passable, but if these were her works he had to at least respect her dedication. His eyes just trailed uninterested through the scenery, not even the seemingly regenerating painting seemed to catch much attention to him.
But something made his one regenerated eye widen, and its golden snake-like pupil dilate in shock. That last painting, it couldn't be... but why?
He walked closer to take a look at it, curiously. It looked different than the others, but how? Before he could even realize it, his cheeks were starting to feel wet. How curious, why would he cry over such a shoddy attempt at art? It was surely nothing important at all.
Before he could think more on the matter, he felt the burnt innards in his body slithered and coil inside his false layer of skin. He turned his head slightly, surprised that she came so quickly. His eyes shed a strange foreign liquid, but his smile was no different than ever.
"Ah, finally. I was getting tired of waiting, this room bored me to the point of tears."