That tingle in his spine, the base of which was pulsating like millions of worms were desperate to rip out of him into the crisp cold clean air full of screams and blood tinged with fear, or is it the other way around?
The pain was incredibly satisfying, staggeringly painful, reaching all the way up his back to the back of his eyes, stabbing needle-like p[ain as the worms BEGGED to leave, begged to eat for the first time they were so HUNGRY...
...and so was he. The sound of flesh tearing itself apart was disappointing, it was his flesh, not someone else's, not a meal but a birthing? New hands, newer than his normal opposable thumbed pale slightly hairy rough hands, but not hands at all twitched at the cold air, moving in stutters to a tune they alone heard. Maybe it wasn't a tune at all, but a scent. He smelled it.