Shiro
Shiro smiled sympathetically, and rubbed her face against Breeze's comfortingly. "It's ok. You'll get used to it."
Auspicious Breeze"Used... to it...?" she couldn't help but ask, her brain refusing to recognize the meaning behind that. It couldn't mean she was away from her mistress forever. Nope. Nothing was going to keep her away from her Radiant Cataclysm forever like that. She must mean it was a really long journey.
Or she was using it as an excuse to rub her face, in which case aaaaahhh that felt nice. Breeze caught herself blushing despite everything else. "Uh, erm, that... right. Food."
Food was safe right now.
Forest
"They smelled horrible, but what was one of the worse things was when a black widow would build her web on the seat. Some poor sod sits down and gets nipped right in the bits," Forest said with a chuckle.
She had seen a few cases where that had happened and watched the poor victim while they were in the throws of the venom's after effects. "You'd figure people would start checking the seat. They didn't."
"It didn't seem too cloying, like some shampoos and body washes can be. It just smelled clean if a tad salty. Honestly, I just need to buck down and find a real apothecary for toiletries here, and no Lush doesn't count . . ." she trailed off as she noticed him being rather watchful.
"You have a Gunslinger's Tick," she whispered to him with a tiny smile.
Gadreel"You could always learn how to make it yourself," the exile suggested to her, endeavoring to keep his amusement from being visible to the degree it would begin to become aggravating. "That would be the most reliable method of acquiring what you need."
It was why had never quite learned how to cook. Bake, yes, because baked goods were a delicacy to the human palate he now shared. However, he had never required sustenance before and was not about to begin doing so now. Cooking in its own right had little to appeal to him despite eons of exposure to it. It was much simpler, really, to partake of the products of human endeavor and savor their growing skill in the field.
Ah. She had noticed his vigilance.
"And you do not?"
RonJaws crunched through bone. Blood and meat was torn from muscle, slid down the monster's throat, and filled him with strength. The hole in his stomach closed, matted fur surrounding patches of clean hairs newly grown to cover fresh skin. Hunger and anger were everything now.
feedThe creature that was Ron ignored the other prey present, perhaps recognizing his scent on her from their earlier coupling. Or, perhaps because he was too caught up in his feast of flesh and gore. By now he had, in his rage, at least given his prey the mercy of a broken neck. He crushed the spine by the upper back between his fangs, and ended the creature's life.
Some deeply buried part of him, beneath the
hunger and the
kill, could not help but respect his meal's silence. It did not grate on his ears as he ended it.
It would be a while before he ate his full. All too much of the body would be left, in the end, because even his belly simply didn't have enough room.