"Devon."

"A. . interesting name. Less common than most, and therefore interesting."

She just looks at me for a few seconds.

'Piss, uh, that!'

"So, you enjoy Red Robin?"

She looks over at the Red Robin takeout bag in the trash, and shrugs.

"Yeah, my favorite, or it was my favorite, was the tavern burger. Do you like Red Robin?"

"Yes, my favorite was the Royal Red Robin burger. I loved it, plain and simple. Even though it was messy, and the egg ran down your fingers when you bit into it, the taste, the texture, even what little smell it had was all perfect~!"

I give a dreamy sigh that sounds like a geiger counter. Allison stares at me from the table, but it isn't a judgy stare, I think.

"So, you said you eat radiation?"

I snap myself out of my daydream,

"Yes, . . I know for sure that I can eat nuclear radiation, . . not sure about the rest of the EM spectrum."

The cabin descends into awkward silence.

"So, do-"

I cut myself off as I hear something land on the roof. A few seconds later, a door opens in an a-frame style section of roof, and from it onto the rafters, steps a very large bird. The bird has a bag on a strap slung diagonally across his torso, over one, shoulder? I guess? And some of the tips of his head feathers are red. He looks at me with sharp assessing eyes, and once again, I am mildly disturbed with how easy I read his expression.

He looks, surprised, surprised and wary.

". . Hi, what's your name?"

"Dustin. What's yours?"

He glances at Allison for a moment, I don't see, but she probably nods.

"Devon, what brings you to our home?"

I lay my head on the carpet and try to relax my eyes a bit.

"A conversation, I won't stay long, and I don't know when ill see people again. I just want to talk for a bit."

'Hope that didn't come across as desperate.'

"Ah."

Devon blinks and hops down to the floor, he spreads his wings a bit at the end, letting a small gust of wind sweep the room as he lands with a lighter thump that I thought he would.

"What would you like to talk about?"

He asks with a neutral tone and expression.

My mind blanks.

'. . .'

"What did you do befor-"

"No."

I blink,

"No?"

He nods decicively,

"No."

"Alright then. What. . is your favorite Touhou game?"

"Ppphhh-ha!"

From there, it's a fun conversation about videogames I'll never play again. Then it moves to food, which I will never eat again. Then we talk about all the places we have been in the world; I point out that Allison can ride on Devon back as a replacement for an airplane. They awkwardly looked at each other for a bit, then started a conversation about how the logistics of that would work. I just put my head on my paws and watched.

'This feels familiar.'

Because it's the role I've always taken, the observer. The one who does the bare minimum to be part of the conversation, and that's how I've always preferred it.

'. . . Is that still something I can have?'

How often will I meet someone willing to have this much of a conversation with a stranger, who confessed to suppressing a death-aura?

'. . Enjoy it while it lasts, I guess.'

I do, and when the sun begins to set, I say goodbye.

". . ."

". . ."

'. . I don't want to go.'

". Well, bye, good luck."

"Good luck dustin."

Allison says with a smile.

"Don't die."

Devon says with concern.

I give a nod to them both, and start walking.

I stop about a day later, and experience the euphoria of FEEDING again. It's truly indescribable. Glazed eyes, sprawled on the scorched dirt, hardlight flickering like a bad bulb. Ovverloaded with power it feels like. . like I could do anything, but all I can do is lay here and process this sensation. Then it fades away, and I can't capture it in my mind again, but I know how to feel it again, so I want to eat again.

I blink, then slowly sit on my haunches.

'. . . So, this is how addicts are made? You get an experience so perfect; you want it more than anything. But, your memories can't re-create the experience, so, you do the thing that gets you the experience, over, and over, and over again.'

I blink.

I start walking.

Crunch Crunch Crunch goes the dead plant matter coating the ground outside of the carbonizing flash area. It turns to: Shiff Shiff Shiff of live grass under my paws soon enough though.

'. . .'

Still gives me a lot to think about.

'. . .'

A lot of it, I don't think I want to think about.

'. . . But, I have nothing to do but think.'

Silence, in the mind, accompanies me for a bit. The outside world falls away, but not enough to send me into my inner mode. Or not the same one anyway.

'. . . .'

I feel like I'm walking through an endless corridor of trees, my point of view shifting slightly with every step I make, but still steadily moving onward, like a ship, steadily sailing to its destination. But I have no destination.

'West. Just west, things will be better out west because I heard someone say there was more monsters like me there.'

I keep walking, the scenery changes a bit, but I don't care. Day becomes night, trees become fields, hills become small valleys. It all looks the same to me.

'. . .'

The hunger comes back.

'. . .'

It starts small, ignorable, but it makes me start thinking of ways to be more efficient.

'. . .'

It grows, and as long as I try to apply the changes I thought up, and keep trying to squeeze every last bit of fuel out of the, the things I keep in my blood, the hunger is ignorable.

'. . .'

I hate past me so much right now.

'Food, food, how to get it?'

Smoke detectors.

'Where are they? Houses, buildings, how to get there?'

I look around, taking in my surroundings for the first time in . . who knows.

'The forest, not where I need to be.'

The fact that I might be hunted if I show myself in a town doesn't matter to me, I need food, fuel, energy, first priority. Looking around, I see trees, grass, bushes,

'Hilltop, I might see some buildings from there.'

Immediately setting off, I walk with single-minded focus. Taking in the environment, I notice evening is here, this is a good thing I decide, it will make it easier to see lit-up structures.

'. . .'

The surrounding land unfolds before me, forest in all direction, occasionally broken up with a field, and lights, lights mean building's, building's mean food.

I set off without thought.

A town,

'A collection of rectangular shapes that contain life, they have what I want.'

I move forward, slightly crouched, moving as silently and smoothly as I can.

'They will see me, but they shouldn't attack until I steal my food.'

Trees/bushes/grass pass and give way to concrete/sculpted wood/metal, the artificial/original construction dismissed in my mind. My objectives are everywhere, but I know the instant I go where I shouldn't, I will be hunted.

'Keepawaykeepawaykeepaway.'

An unending stream of backbackback rolls through my head, most heed the aura of tenseness I put out, some pass almost to close, and they jerk back when they feel the barely restrained power in the air. My eyes flick around as my legs move me as smoothly as they can.

'Keepaw-food.'

I immediately walk away from the sidewalk and down a grassy hill, at the bottom, a fence separates the grass from a massive sprawling pile of . . . The word that encapsulates the meaning of it all escapes me, but I know what it is all the same.

'Unwanted, unused, unmissed things, . . unclaimed things!'

Yes! Yesyesyes, none of this will be defended! I excitedly spin up my tail and slice the metal-linked fence from top to bottom, and shove my way through, it stings a bit, but my excitement and relief at finding a food source unclaimed washes away the discomfort.

I see all manor of things in the pile, some sharp, some wet, some shiny, some dull, and some orange. That beautiful buzzing haze pulls me forward,

'digdigdig,'

Currently, digging in this spot to reach the food is the only thing that matters to me, the only thing on my mind. Metal, hard plastic, old boxes, wet unidentifiable gunk, I digdigdig through it all.

My front paws are disgusting.

This mildly bothers me, and then I stop caring because the object of my hunger is right there.

The plastic is cracked and dirty, the metallic components and wires are cracked and snapped, and I can't care about any of this, or even register it's a broken smoke detector and not some random shape that's in my way. Mashing it into the mess below it with my paws cracks it a bit, but I decide its to slow so I bend one of my rectangles around it, and start grinding it against itself until it falls apart into shredded plastic.

'. . .'

I'm so excited I can't think.

The containment sphere forms, all my shapes are poured into it.

My blue portal into my heart, floats forward paradoxaly slowly, and I relax, as I know I'm about to feed, and feed well. The metal/material/spicyfood, is poked.

Everything is wonderful and amazing and joyjoyjoy-!1!11!

The g$rba%%e around me burns and melts, all turning to ash or running liquid, I ignore that, and focus on moving. The burning is starting to burn, not much, but it still hurts. It takes at least five body lengths of loping forward to get clear of the stuff that spontaneously combusted/liquified, and then I just keep going because the fire is spreading. I feel great, I feel happy, I feel sated.

My eyes are wide and everything seems so more I love it I love it, what was I worrying about earlier? Who cares lets runrunrun!

'Happy, I'm Happy!'