ᴀɴᴀʟᴏɢᴏᴜs.
He recognized the signs by now; he gazed at the former beast, distinctive features slowly oozing together, makeshift fur soon matted in an unrecognizable pile of sloppy innards and distorted fluids as the pet’s low, guttural moans ceased, leaving no other sound than that of a quiet sizzle. The last of it’s life apparent with the final popping of the boils rounding its form (toxins percolated through the creature where it now rested, taking the life of the vegetation in the area with it) attempting to save itself, to survive. Another failure.
❛ᴏʜʜʜʜ…❜
He’d have to start from scratch—every part of it useless by now, nothing more than a meal for his future Ammobiums—he’d have to collect again. A tedious job, and thankfully he still had some parts leftover in the containers he carried in the bag he held. But he couldn’t deny that he was attached to them, that he even loved them. At this point in time he made no attempts to wipe away the tears pooling in his eyes before trickling down his face. Was it painful for them? He never kept more than two of them and the newly-born survivor left unfazed beside Kiel, unknowing that this too would be it’s own fate in two weeks time. Someday, he hoped to expand their lifespans.
After he gathered samples for himself, enough time passed where he could retrieve the leftover mush of what once was in a parcel for his pet. They didn’t require much nutrition and they often snacked on a plethora of different things such as grass, leaves, carcasses, whatever they could get their teeth on. This, however, was better for them, and did seem to be the only thing deemed worthy enough to prolong their lives if not a few days longer. There’s a trick to it he hasn’t figure out yet.
Before he could analyze the differences in this body with the prior the creature nestled next to him’s attitude changed, the way it took a few steps ahead of him, waiting for his dismissal so it may hunt. At least, that’s how it’s body language suggested to him. He quickly shoved the items in his bag as he gave it the sign to go—a click of his tongue.
It didn’t take long for them to locate the prey, as they silently crept beneath the trees. However, he felt a spark of interest inside him once he analyzed the two figures. He shot a glance towards his Ammobium to call it off, and it respected it, just in case they noticed either of them. There was something interesting about them, different from others he’s encountered thus far (whatever that something was, was enough for him to want to know more about them.) Slow, ragged breaths came from his pet, no longer ready to attack but still on defense, if not for it’s master’s safety. That’s mostly what they were made for, after all. In their ‘genetic’ makeup.
Without much hesitance on his part, he approached them (though still keeping mild of distance between them, his pet staying near him, only three steps ahead.)
❛ʜᴇʟʟᴏᴏᴏ, ʜᴏᴡ’s ɪᴛ…❜
Wrapping his hands carefully around the handle of one of the juju’s he carried at his waist—a shrunken head, handed down to him from the dearly departed—and pulled it up, shaking it to bring more of the attention to it.
❛ʜᴀɴɢɪɴɢ?❜
Break the ice.
Carried by bliss, he tracks with his nose to the floor. Gravel and grit crackle beneath his boots, though Cain pays the sounds no mind. Driven by smell and taste, his tongue feels swollen and mouth raw. As per usual, his stomach is threatening to growl any minute now. The yet-again cravings scrape at the inner walls of a cadaver’s makeshift skin, reborn for the sake of placating another and he grows languid. Limbs still insisting on moving forward alongside his other (now creator, in this sense of mind), they seem to get heavier.
Oh… He’s moving. Something’s moving. He’s tracking something down. Why?
Unblinking despite heavy lids, he takes longer, deeper breaths. Whatever it is that he’s following, it’s moving, breathing. (Has something you want. Hiding something inside - yours to take, right? You need that.) He’s so hungry. Tunnel vision blotches out the sight of Kanon on his right, waste and machinery to his left. Dead vehicles, abandoned space, everything dead. He, with them. It all feels so sick, dreary, and his head is empty space for an old a fever dream concocted in a Ray Bradbury novel. Whatever - he’s never been much of an avid reader, especially not when those details hardly matter now. As if anyone cares what the authors meant.
They make considerable distance before Cain comes back to his senses, if that’s what one could call them. It’s hard to dub them anything akin to what humans have, because he so blatantly isn’t. What, with those train tracks running over his cheek and across his neck, the complete lack of color in his cheeks… the shadowy lesions beneath bright, manic eyes that always look as though they wait to make sense of something. And maybe he does, maybe they are, but he can’t speak on the matter. It’s one that comes and goes.
Particularly when he’s feeding - and thus, further discussion on it is too garbled. Drowned out by euphoric pleasure that accompanies feeding, rhyme and reason slips away from him. Coherence drains from blue veins up his neck, but nothing lies beneath. All that vacancy makes room for such an appetite.
Christ, he’s so hungry… How did he live without food before now? Everything sounds so nauseating - not so much the incoming presence as he feels it growing closer. Wants to reach out and take it, but regains control just in time to give an earnest glance. Oh - it’s a boy, beside something of a wholly separate stature. More meat, maybe… but not so appetizing. Tongue running over his teeth, Cain presses one hand into his hip before his ears quirk up.
Hanging…
Something is literally hanging. And from the yearning trance comes the brunet’s right mind, accompanied by peals of short laughter.
That’s… a head! Hanging!
“Fuck!” He grins, turning to Kanon and motioning toward the eccentric talisman. They’re in the company of someone less than ordinary - so maybe this is luck. Maybe they’ve got some recruiting to do.
It’s a good thing he’s back to thinking clearly, huh?
“Good one - love it, love that. Think I know somebody else might be able to tell you.” Beneath a noose from a tree is someone who has ‘opted out’ of this apocalypse - someone who smells too much like death for him to find appetizing. “My buddy Hank. He’s been hanging around for awhile now.”
"Name’s Cain. You are?”
Traveling with Cain is… interesting. When they have no goal in mind, no one around, they might enjoy some light conversation. But with a scent and possible food to be gained, the trip is silent if not for the scuffle of feet across gravel and earth. One, Kanon doesn’t wish to break his concentration, and two, he reflects amusingly, he’s not sure the other would necessarily hear him. But that’s okay! In the end, walking alongside Cain is time spent with Cain, and that’s never something to complain about.
As the smell becomes more pungent, almost tangible, to his partner, Kanon merely begins to make out the form of what he assumes is a person in the distance. And as they get closer… something else. Kanon has to squint at first, but soon enough it’s clearly a boy and some kind of creature. The boy speaks first, and…
A head… hanging… by the time Cain points out the punchline Kanon is already laughing.
"Hey, that was pretty good!" Sounds like something Cain would—
"My buddy Hank…" Gaze automatically shifting to said “buddy”, Kanon’s laughter ceases long enough to register the state of said person.
"He’s been hanging around for awhile now."
Then he loses it.
"I get it!! He’s hanging!! How convenient, huh?” Wiping a stray tear from his eye, he offers his hand out of habit rather than courtesy as he adds his own introduction. "My name’s Kanon, nice to meet you!"
Ohh, he liked them. He soaked in the response wholeheartedly, his own laughter bounced from him as he clapped his hands together in amusement. His gaze shifted and fixed wholly from Cain to the body. He took advantage of the joke to look it over once, twice, and although he felt disappointed that the parts he could have salvaged may be ineffective his features remained the same. But, there might be something he could use.. for whatever at least. Scavengers don't have much of a right to complain when something pops up though, and he'll take what he can get after looking it over more thoroughly--later.
❛ᴋɪᴇʟ.❜
He gestured towards the creature ahead of him as he reattached his juju to his waist. It walked on all-fours, similar to that of a dog in shape. Only, definitely easy to tell that it's not a dog..as the similarities ended there.
❛ᴛʜɪs ɪs ʙᴏᴋᴏʀ. ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴜʀᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇᴇᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴏᴛʜ.❜
He stepped past his companion and firmly grasped the one introduced as Kanon's hand, placing his other hand on top of theirs as he shook it merrily. Of course, his beast was on edge, and he preferred it that way. Wouldn't be much of a guard if it lowered its own. This allowed Kiel to be as open as he liked, as he held upmost faith in his children for protection. Before releasing the handshake, he took note of the feeling of touching someone else alive--and not like..that--once again. It had been a long time since he was met with smiles and a kind of comfort instead of contempt and judgmental eyes.
He didn't really miss it. Not a lot. Maybe.
Now that he was even closer he did get a better look at Cain, his..well..he betrayed his appearance, it seemed. Kiel thought that maybe it was a trick of the eye or whatnot, but through and through he did look a lot like some of those people he came across previously. Granted, he looked a lot better than they did. But, Kiel's not exactly someone that can tell how well people are off or not anymore in terms of how their head is. Honestly, all he ever saw in people lately (and ever, at least since it all started. He needed more to improve, more to build, more to take) was parts, parts, parts.
❛sᴏᴏ..ʜᴏᴡ'ᴅ ᴛʜᴇ sɪᴛᴜᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ғʀᴏᴍ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ?❜ he gestured towards where they came from, or where he assumed the direction they came from was, ❛ᴅɪᴅ ʏᴏᴜ sᴇᴇ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʟɪᴋᴇ...❜ another gesture, only this time to his newly acquainted pal Hank, ❛ʜɪᴍ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ?❜ The question was mostly riddled in terms of whether or not he should move past them himself to gather or just not bother with it if it deemed to be a waste of time.
