[ It borders so far on tasteless that Vincent can't help but wonder if it's just his mind remembering what it's supposed to taste like. He sighs but looks toward Heat. ]
My tastes have changed lately. Because of our condition.
[ As Drifters becoming monsters. ]
Raw meat doesn't interest me either.
[ The blood does but he has no interest in the rest. Something he found out while butchering more pieces off.
But what to do with the rest of the kabob. That part is awkward. And it seems wasteful to toss it in the circumstances. ]
no subject
My tastes have changed lately. Because of our condition.
[ As Drifters becoming monsters. ]
Raw meat doesn't interest me either.
[ The blood does but he has no interest in the rest. Something he found out while butchering more pieces off.
But what to do with the rest of the kabob. That part is awkward. And it seems wasteful to toss it in the circumstances. ]