Hunger Pangs // -6 years
Adjusting to the desert was a challenge. Adjusting to the Bodysnatcher’s seemed impossible. Life here was so different than back home. He respected it, of course. He couldn’t say he was exactly loyal to the government that resolved to have him murdered for no other reason than to martyr him.
He watched them all eat from afar. They mostly sat together, with a few specific groupings, a few loners, but something about it felt so familial. It wasn’t like the drac lunch hours when he was in the academy. Everyone was tense, or cliquey, or the exxies were looming over each squadron, threatening them to hurry up and finish so they could get back to work.
It felt a little looser here, like everyone actually liked each other. Or at least tolerated each other. His stomach growled painfully and he let out a steady breath. He went three days without food or water before Desperado found him and brought him here. Desperado fed him, and although it was hard to get the food down at first, he was thankful.
And although he eventually caught wind of why the meat seemed so oddly healthy and succulent for the desert, he was still thankful.
That didn’t mean he could do it again though, now that he knew. He watched them tear into the meat and it made him sick. The thought that they’d been out here long enough to resort to this was depressing. He didn’t blame them, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. There had to be other ways...maybe not for a group this big, but he was sure he could find a way to sustain himself once he and them parted ways.
He bit into his lip, chewing on it to try and trick his brain's hunger center so maybe it would finally stop growling. He was a soldier, he could weather a few days without food. He closed his eyes and began to meditate. It was hard with the voices, the enticing scent of meat, and the way his stomach relentlessly churned, but after a moment he felt himself calming.
