[ dextera accepts makoto’s answer with both gratitude and grace, even if makoto himself seems unsatisfied by his explanation. ‘hunger’ doesn’t entirely encapsulate the way dextera feels, either, even if it’s the only word that can describe the sensation that sits in his stomach. he craves not just flesh, but life, a deep need that’s been impressed on so many after the events of the blaze. it’s the worst for dextera, though, a reluctant acknowledgment that god has changed him.
straddling two existences, the only thing dextera can do to maintain his corporeal body is consume. and when he’s fixated on that, his own body’s presence in the real world, it isn’t all that strange that emotional wires would get crossed in ways he can’t explain to many people. ]
…
[ he nods. his natural silence allows that simplicity without judgment.
then, he withdraws the spoils one delicate revelation at a time. the intestines, the liver, the heart—dextera hadn’t been lying about keeping them fresh, each of them still flushed and warm as if from the body, though with no twitching pulse of tissue the way they might be truly ripped from a torso.
no subject
straddling two existences, the only thing dextera can do to maintain his corporeal body is consume. and when he’s fixated on that, his own body’s presence in the real world, it isn’t all that strange that emotional wires would get crossed in ways he can’t explain to many people. ]
…
[ he nods. his natural silence allows that simplicity without judgment.
then, he withdraws the spoils one delicate revelation at a time. the intestines, the liver, the heart—dextera hadn’t been lying about keeping them fresh, each of them still flushed and warm as if from the body, though with no twitching pulse of tissue the way they might be truly ripped from a torso.
he lays them out on the bag. ]