GOATS

[blackgoat]

"Do you have children?"

The voice seemed to come before the lady, as if the question summoned her, rather than was actually spoken.

Small, demure in appearance, lovely in a way that quickly extended itself into the realm of disquieting. She seemed doll like, unliving and not quite made of flesh.

Little hands resting on a heavily pregnant belly, the woman draped in heavy Victorian dresses of stone grays, off whites and dull sky blues, with that porcelain skin and wild snow white hair, she'd almost look like she was trying to blend into the snow.

"If you do not, do you want them?"

Ah, so it was her speaking, the voice soft and sweet, if... off, in an odd way. A tone that crept up the spine and settled into the neck and base of the skull, like cold fingers pressed against the nape.

Comments

[outpostcook]

"Cats can't talk to mice, though. If you can talk to the folks you eat, doesn't that change things a little?"

Kinner wouldn't feel right eating an animal that could talk. It would feel...wrong, if not immoral.

But this stranger's not human, and it's likely her values aren't human.

"I'm definitely happy to be here in some form. It's good to be alive, well, after a fashion."

[blackgoat]

"The ability to speak does not denote intelligence, nor comprehension. The near inarticulate cries of a simple creature would not deter me, even if it were to ape speech." A cold answer, but one that made perfect sense to her.

"Then you are alive? And not undead? You feel warm, child, too warm for a corpse."

[outpostcook]

Kinner wonders a bit if this is how the Thing saw him and his team. It clearly recognized their intelligence, but saw them as food and nothing more. Do the lobsters in Kinner's tank see him that way? He was certainly no vegetarian.

"Yes, I'm alive. At least I think I am, though I don't know how I got here. I'm happy not to be undead, though."