The big one, the one I hold in my talons, is screaming. He's trying to shoo his offspring away. I find it amusing that he thinks they can outrun us.
"Papa!" that's one of the little ones, female if I understand their physiology right.
"Sash! Run!" his struggles whet my appetite.
"PAPA!"
This one is a screamer. Wonderful. I so enjoy their screams as they are devoured. There's still a spark of life in him, I can still feel wind in his body.
"Sash...love...you..." now he is only meat. Delicious.
But that word... This is not the first time I've heard these fleshy, weak creatures use it. Love... I wonder what it means to them. 'Run away', perhaps? No. Does it give them strength? No, or he would not be meat in my stomach and blood on my teeth.
I wonder...
Perhaps... Yes, I think I will investigate our prey a little closer. My children are strong, they can manage themselves without me for a time. I look carefully at the remains around me, listen to the voices still screaming in this devastated city. That voice, those eyes, the color of this one's fur... Yes, yes, this will do.
The transformation is agony. Metal carapace crushing down, softening; bones re-forming, growing weak; a flimsy mane pluming around unfamiliar long ears. I see myself reflected in a pool of blood. Now I appear weak...prey. Wonderful. My bones ache and my balance is wrong, so I pick up a dropped staff and steady myself with it.
An attack from behind! Hissing, snarling, ripping claws reach for me, fangs seek my blood. One blow to the glowing skull gem in the forehead is all it takes. The gem cracks; with a shriek, the Metal Head is down.
"Peace, child," I whisper, voice soft, old.
"...K...Kor?" a final word.
"Yes." I turn away, shuffling through the ruins. "Now to watch and wait. A definition for this 'love' may prove most useful..."