Serpent Lake go for the throat

scarab fights through another bought of shivers that rock his body, refusing to uncurl much of himself but his head to look at her. as it is, it's something of a struggle to lift it up — especially when he just wants to sleep; but their staring contest gave scarab the impression that she didn't intend on leaving anytime soon. his assumption thus far appears to be right as she speaks cold words in a tone that is utterly apathetic. if that was meant as words of encouragement ...she was awful at it.

as it was, scarab musters enough energy to give her an unabashed roll of his eyes. for a long moment he's torn between how to respond: thinking yeah, so what? might be a good line to use but that pointing out the fact that vultures only eat the dead might also be good too. regardless, her apathetic nature prickles at him and he wonders if its because it's similar to his own. that's a real great pep talk. the plagued golden prince deadpans scathingly. let them come, arrogance speaks thru him, as if he were a vessel for the very worst of his personality traits in that moment. at least it'd be a decent meal.

we'll play the game of who can eat who first. he snorts, gritting his teeth together as another shiver ripples down his spine. and because she doesn't seem too keen on leaving, lest as far as scarab can tell he asks while she remains in his insufferable company: aren't you afraid of catching whatever plague i have?

nanowrimo: 272