"Long!"
"Wake up Long, it's time for your feast!"
A persistent voice roused Mr. Valen from his slumber, his stomach growling in protest as he woke onto the damp floor of the cave, a tent over his head.
His hunger was abysmal at this point, his sense of smell locking onto Thirio's scent, feeding him with information about his current location, his proximity, urging him to pounce.
But he suppressed it.
He was human after all and humans were incredibly gifted at suppressing instincts.
He had been led to this empty tent and informed that this would be his place of residence from now on.
Immediately he found a safe space, he opted to sleep, putting every bit of worry behind him.
Without the ability to think, common sense deserted Mr. Valen, leaving him unable to ask vital questions or ponder glaring clues. Yet the feeling, the primal instinct, remained.
A hand tore through his tent and opened it wide, Mr. Valen didn't even have to look to know that it was Thirio.
