Pearl barely moves a muscle in the time the woman's gone. It occurs to her, dimly, that there's no real reason why she would go and search for animal blood for the monster that assailed her -- God knows when she'll return, and God knows what she'll bring with her, be it backup or weapons. Perhaps the safest thing for her to be getting up and escaping while she's able.
Yet the thought doesn't inspire enough fear in her to propel her limp, aching muscles.
Pearl is so, so tired. She can't go through another day of this. Being killed here and now might be the best thing that could happen -- to her, and to the rest of humanity. She's a parasite, a mistake, she should've died a month back lying on that road.
She's crying again, but her tears are quieter this time, slipping from her cheeks and splattering onto the floor.
Imagine her surprise when the woman really does return a few minutes later with a cat bundled in her arms.
Pearl shifts to look up at her, blinking the wetness from her eyelids. The cat has frizzled fur and no collar -- a stray, to be missed by no one -- and her stomach lurches with equal parts hunger and nausea. The cat meowls in distress at the sight of her, struggling to escape the woman's arms. As if it already knows.
Pearl would throw up, were there anything in her stomach. She can't, she can't, this isn't right, she's so hungry--
For a split-second her face contorts into that beastly visage again, but she forces it back with a labored groan. "C-can you," she croaks, stopping to swallow against the bile rising in her throat, "can you kill it?"
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Yet the thought doesn't inspire enough fear in her to propel her limp, aching muscles.
Pearl is so, so tired. She can't go through another day of this. Being killed here and now might be the best thing that could happen -- to her, and to the rest of humanity. She's a parasite, a mistake, she should've died a month back lying on that road.
She's crying again, but her tears are quieter this time, slipping from her cheeks and splattering onto the floor.
Imagine her surprise when the woman really does return a few minutes later with a cat bundled in her arms.
Pearl shifts to look up at her, blinking the wetness from her eyelids. The cat has frizzled fur and no collar -- a stray, to be missed by no one -- and her stomach lurches with equal parts hunger and nausea. The cat meowls in distress at the sight of her, struggling to escape the woman's arms. As if it already knows.
Pearl would throw up, were there anything in her stomach. She can't, she can't, this isn't right, she's so hungry--
For a split-second her face contorts into that beastly visage again, but she forces it back with a labored groan. "C-can you," she croaks, stopping to swallow against the bile rising in her throat, "can you kill it?"