Victory at all costs, victory in spite of all terror, victory however long and hard the road may be; for without victory, there is no survival.

- Winston Churchill

We quickly packed up what little we could from our camp. And by we, I mean Nadeen. Thing Two and I watched with varying levels of amusement as the beleaguered teen picked her way across the former Hellhound den. I couldn't see why - there wasn’t really anything here except dried and cracking bones in a pile near the back of the cave. They were old, and the only thing I felt while looking at the femur Nadeen eventually rose from the pile with was that letting them get too old to eat was a huge waste on the wolves part.

Seemingly pleased with her find, Nadeen stumbled up to the cave entrance where I was waiting, and then cautiously followed behind me as turned to leave.

Nadeen wasn’t looking good. She had continued to grow pale and weak as the morning dragged on, despite the rest and food. Even her pleasant appetizing smell was starting to fade away, my compulsion to eat her still present but less… urgent. I know big predators can smell sickness and disease, a survival trait developed to avoid eating something bad and dieing no doubt - and I wondered if that’s what was happening here. If so, it meant there was a timer on how long we could stay out in these woods. Nadeen needed medical attention.

Thing Two had been oddly quiet through the morning, and I sometimes caught him staring at me quizzically when it seemed I wasn’t paying attention. Something in his sickly yellow eyes as they gazed at me - no pupil or facial expression to give away what he was thinking - sent a shuddering chill down my spine. It was a poignant reminder that Thing Two was a monster. A man eating beast that only a few days ago had consumed a man alive simply because he could. He may be following me around now, following my orders in so far as us Things were capable of communicating, but I had no idea how long that would last - or of it was even normal for our species. Bastoks description of us had been less than flattering, but it did imply we were pack animals.

I eyed the thick corded muscles Thing Two had used to tear apart a Hellhound just yesterday, and shuddered again.

Best to just hope the status quo lasts.

After a few hours of blissfully uninterrupted travel through the forest, Nadeen spoke up again.

“I’m...I’m still hungry.” she said, almost in a whisper. My head whipped around to see her only to find her face scrunched up, as though in disbelief of her own words.

There was no way she had digested that wolf.haunch that fast. For one, she had cleaned it down to the bone. For another, I was reasonably certain it was bigger than someone her size could physically contain without suffering greatly.

And yet…

My eyes flicked.down to her stomach, expecting some swelling or a paunch from the excessive meal. Instead, she seemed almost emaciated, her leather armor rattling on her frame as though she had rapidly lost weight.

“Why am I still hungry?” she said, a pleading tone entering into her voice.

I had nothing to say to that, or rather, nothing I could say regardless, so I shrugged once and then turned back to walking. I’d taken three steps before realizing I hadn’t actually turned my body to face her, or stopped walking.

I'd just blithely stuck my hand on Thing Two’s back and turned my head around so I could look at her without stopping. Thing Two as well had immediately changed the length of his gait to make me comfortable, almost as though we had practiced it.

But we really, really hadn’t. I swear if Things have a hive mind or some such bullshit that I haven’t been using I’m going to blow a fuse. Then again, did I really want to become Borg just because it would be convenient?

My thoughts were interrupted when Thing Two came to a very abrupt halt. Hopping once to stop myself from walking into his back, I peered around him to see why we had stopped, but even before I had finished moving I knew.

I could smell it. The wonderful odor of human flesh. Still bleeding - no, still alive even. Almost before I could stop myself, Thing Two and I loped out from behind cover and onto what seemed like a dirt road.

On it was what seemed to be an overturned carriage. Two horses lay dead in the road before it, full of arrows and weakly twitching as they slowly bled out. Thing Two immediately gave me a look that said ‘dibs’ and then pounded away towards them.

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Hungry but cautious, I began to circle the carriage, even as the wet squelching of Thing Two eating began to ring out. It was a nice carriage, not that I was any judge of such things. The carriage had an elaborately designed roof painted bright green, and a large door on the side that wasn’t lying on the ground. The doors had a weird symbol on it that - if I had to guess - looked like a very stylized picture of an elephant. If elephants had six legs and tusks the size of tree trunks.

Slowly I shifted around the upturned carriage, until I was brought up short by the ragged breathing of a man. He was pinned beneath the carriage from the waist down, and my eye sockets shrunk in a wince as I noted how heavy the carriage must be. The mans face was positively covered in blood and muck, hiding what must once have been a devilishly handsome appearance that could only have been the product of one thing - money. His short black hair, once coiffed expertly was matted against his head by sweat, and he was exceedingly pale. His eyes were unfocused when I came to a stop in front of him, and he was weakly plucking at his tunic - itself the same green as the carriage roof while he mumbled to himself.

This man was dead ready. There wasn’t really any saving him. The carriage he was pinned by was so heavy that it had likely rolled most of his inside out like beneath its girth - like a tasty meat tube of yogurt.

Oh God not this again.

I salivated and cracked my jaw open stepping towards the poor guy ostensibly to give him a quick death. But even though as I allowed for that justification, I idly wondered what brains must taste like. I've known people who've tried brains in weird foreign restaurants, and always found it strange that somehow everything tastes like chicken if you've never had it before.

Now leaning over the dying man I froze as his eyes focused and his attention zipped to something over my shoulder.

Spinning towards the danger I only found Nadeen standing behind me. Actually she was more than just standing behind me - she was practice bending over me, panting like she’d just run a marathon and was about to vomit. As our eyes met her mouth - which had been hanging open as though she was about to speak - clicked shut, and a look of annoyance, and the horror passed over her.

If I didn't know any better I’d say it was almost like -

“La..dy.. Binder…” croaked dinner behind me, and I felt the tenuous balance of instinct versus humanity tip when he became just a bit more of a person and a bit less of meat sac.

Nadeen rocked to a halt over me, midway through the motions of hurling herself her usual eight feet away from me.

“Yes.” she said, her voice firm but her body beginning to shake violently. Poor kid is probably going to be fucked for life after this. At the very least I doubt she’ll come into the forest again. She was staring like a deer in the headlights at the crushed man, her breathing getting faster and more ragged the longer she watched him.

My heart went out to her. But my stomach kind of wished she could hurry the fuck up.

“Pl..ease. Tell… my father... I….” the man fumbled one hand against the other until he managed to slowly pull a golden ring, slick with blood from it. He placed it almost reverently on the the ground in front of him - then seeming to have used up the last of his strength, his head fell, and he stopped moving.

Slowly, Nadeen crept forward. She was shaking so much now that I felt it must be a minor miracle that she was even still standing. Her hands were shaking the worst, and as she knelt next to me to slowly pick up the ring, her gaze never left the dead man.

This became one of the few moments when my rational mind and my monstrous side managed to agree on something. I stepped forward, blocking her line of sight and bent over to pick the ring off the ground. Nadeen had been fumbling blindly at the ground a few inches to the right of it, and making my movements obvious, I lifted her hand palm up, dropping the ring into it and closing her fingers into a fist.

Her eyes snapped to mine, and seeming to only now remember her own circumstances, she scuttled backward away from me in a panicked crab walk I would have called comical if I couldn’t see the burnt flesh of her stump tearing as she scraped it across the ground. Man I hope to god these fantasyland assholes have antiseptic. Confident I had managed to save some small part of Nadeen’s sanity, I whirled around on my dinner. It didn’t smell quite as appetizing now - still better than anything I’d ever had in my life - but less mesmerizing now that the prick had died. Stupid last words. I doubted Nadeen would ever meet his dad, so with pretty much no guilt my jaw cracked open, and I began to feast.

I am pleased to report, it did in fact, taste like chicken.

***

Less than an hour later I found myself eyeing the carriage. Not because I wanted to use it - though I had noted that the wheels and axels looked like they might still work. No, I found myself staring at the overturned carriage, because there was a perfectly good half a human under it that I couldn’t get at.

I should have probably felt worse about this, given that this was the first time I’d consciously eaten human flesh - but the guy was dead way before I met him, and I refused to take the bad karma for it. If anything, he should be thanking me. He got to be with someone in his last moments.

No I’m not lying to myself. I don’t feel bad about this at all. At all.

I darted a glance to the side of the road Nadeen had been curled up on while we ate, then turned back to the carriage.

‘Not. My. Fault.’ I repeated to myself. It had become my mantra in the last hour of gorging myself, second only to my greatest hit ‘What the fuck is going on’. Just can’t beat the classics.

Sighing, or rather, making a weird gurgling sound, I gave up on seconds and ambled around the carriage to where Thing Two was pawing through the dirt for any bits of horsemeat the glutton might have missed. Yeah I was a pig, but this fat fuck had eaten two fully grown adult horses in under an hour. It was a volume that frankly boggled my mind, and leant just a bit more proof to my personal belief that Things might have literal portals in their stomachs. My thoughts jumped to my Hydra Tongue and I ground my teeth together in agitation.

The only problem with the portal theory, was that portals had to go somewhere, and I wasn’t willing to accept that I was a walking hellgate just yet.

Seeming to notice me looking at him Thing Two chittered pleasantly at me, the sound so deep in his chest it was more of a warble. Then, scenting the air, the gluttonous moron shuffled around the carriage, and with a single awe inspiring shove, pushed it back onto its wheels.

I stared back and forth between him and the carriage, trying to gauge whether or not I wanted to fight him for the half a pancaked human that lay beneath it. Then an evil grin split my maw, as an idea crossed my no doubt peanut sized brain.

No sooner than Thing Two had finished eating, I was ready. I chittered pleasantly at him, leading him towards the front of the carriage, where the horses would usually be. Checking to make sure he hadn’t eaten them, I stretched a hand out, grabbing a torn part of the leather harness, and proffering it to him.

He didn’t seem to get it at first, but I mimed wrapping it about my fist and pulling. That about seemed to do it, and he gently nudged me out of the way, reaching up to grab a much more substantial amount of the harness and tugging experimentally. The carriage lurched forward, startling both of us. Then a curious glint filled Thing Two’s eyes, and he calmed, testing his strength on the carriage again.

Satisfied with my work I walked away to get Nadeen situated in the carriage. And unlike my previous convictions, I found I really didn’t feel bad about this particular abuse of my relationships. After all, he’d eaten basically everything here - and you gotta work if you wanna eat.