I can still taste blood in my mouth. No one ever asks me about it, no one ever questions it. But is it right I should so much savour the taste of human flesh? Am I an animal after all? A less-than-human?
They rely on me to be their strong-arm half-man/half-beast. They depend on my ferocity and rage. But what do they really think of me? Am I a true friend? Do they secretly despise me?
I feel so threatened. So paranoid. It does not occur to them that I might need comfort and support.
Surely it is possible to love the taste of blood and the screaming of dying humans, and yet still be the sensitive type?
Alliea
The Captain has been giving me strange looks. I fear he thinks I’m grieving too much for Rob. Perhaps he considers me obsessive. Unreliable. Flaky.
Why does he keep looking at me like that?
Am I unworthy of his trust?