(no subject)

He meant to hold out longer. He really did.

Back home, he could go weeks to months without feeding. The new hunger, no matter how strong, was easier ignored in a dead city. There may have been the occasional feral street dog or unfortunate pigeon to help sate it, but they were just a crutch. Something to help ease the churn and ache that came from something that knotted up in his throat and head and demanded he appease it.

Darrow wasn't a dead city.

There were living everywhere. Even alone on an empty street, he wasn't alone. Every building had humans behind its walls, the air itself was saturated with the smell of living pounding him between the eyes. It made the hunger rear and demand he do something. It made his teeth bare and clench.

He didn't want to hurt anyone. He'd promised. He'd promised himself and the people he'd met that he wouldn't.

But the new hunger demanded.

( Cut for the eating of a live animal )