ORIGIN

They hadn't eaten. They were starving-- why were they starving?

Had it not come to Heinrich's head that he has to eat to survive? Did he not feel the pangs that shook the body that both he and Mordecai shared? The hunger put Mordecai in a sour mood (though this had become a common thing for him) but Henry was a chipper as ever. They slithered around Canis, Henry looking for friends and Mordecai looking for food.

Henry had a deep success in finding himself friends. He'd already met the cat that was here not too long ago, and the aardwolf and doe in Orion. To an extent, that would mean Mordecai was also successful in finding friends, but he didn't exactly think of it that way.

They talked to them to talk to Henry, not him. He would call it jealousy or envy if he could, but honestly he'd rather if they didn't talk to him. He just wanted to be alone. He often wondered what it would be like to have a body to himself, and just himself. He could stay coiled up on bones all day if he wanted to. He could slither away from strangers. He could do what he wanted.

He loved his brother. He really did, but he couldn't stand being a maximum of three inches away from his brother's face at all times.

Heinrich was hungry, but he didn't want to bother his brother about it. His brother was always bothered by everything he did and everything he said. He didn't understand why his brother was always so angry at him when Henry would try his absolute best.

Henry didn't lack self-awareness, contrary to what Mordecai would believe. He knew he was slow. He knew he didn't understand things like most people did. He knew he had trouble speaking and he knew his brother hated it that he was the one who could move.

He was slithering towards the wall, now. He wasn't sure where Morty wanted to go because he was sitting in pure silence - practically fuming out of his nose. Henry wasn't sure what he was mad at right now, but he too decided to stay quiet.

The right head was sad. He didn't want his brother to be so angry all the time. Henry had preferred Orion, with his darkness but pretty, shiny and glittering ceiling. He wanted to stay there forever, and maybe one day find a way to get up to the ceiling so he could collect the shiny rocks there.

But Mordecai preferred the bones. And that was okay, but he liked the big bones. The bones that were so much bigger than they were. But that was okay. It was fun to slither and coil around them, but Henry had quickly found that he didn't particularly like the height. Perhaps he was even afraid of being up so high.

But his brother wasn't. So would that mean he was really okay? To say the least, he hoped so. The head sighed quietly as he continued to slither around.

As if by magic or some wish that had been granted, Mordecai caught sight of a rat. It seemed small - small enough for him to eat. Best of all - it was distracted. Mordecai felt his rounded eyes widen as he turned his head to nudge Henry's head.

"We have to eat," he hissed sternly as Henry turned his head. "Wrap around the rat." But Henry did not move - in fact he stopped in his tracks. He was staring at the small rat, rubbing it's face and washing it's hands. At length, he whimpered.

Mordecai wasn't sure why his brother was being such a big baby. If he wanted to eat, now would be the time to. He nudged Henry a little. "Hurry up," he said. "Come on. We'll die if we don't eat. Hurry up."

But still the two-headed snake did not move. Mordecai was beginning to try push his head forward, trying to get them to move, but Henry was practically frozen in place. But still the two-headed snake did not move. Mordecai was beginning to try push his head forward, trying to get them to move, but Henry was practically frozen in place. The left head scowled, peering back at his brother. He refused to be killed by his brother's stubbornness to not kill something else that breathed. "They don't think, they don't speak, Henry. Coil around it and I'll eat it for you."

Why did he have to do it? He could see his brother struggling to move forward, but Henry couldn't do it. He didn't want to do it-- what could be worse than taking away a life that isn't his? There was a pause and then a whine that came from the right head, as the snake began to slowly slither forward.

He had to do this - his brother was right. They had to eat. Henry attempted to lunge forward, to flop on the baby mouse and coil around it, to trap it so Mordecai could eat, but it was too fast. It ran right under them and into a hole engraved in the wall. Henry whined again; he expected Mordecai to be mad, but he wasn't.

In fact, he was shouting to chase after it, which he tried. The snake ended up at the entrance of the tunnel. Henry wasn't sure what to do now - and frankly, neither did Mordecai. Perhaps they'd have to wait it out, to find another small cave rat to eat.

Henry turned and slithered on, quiet. He had failed his brother and now they would die because that might have been their only meal for days - not that they had to eat more than once every few days to begin with, but still he had failed and no doubt his brother hated him more.

Mordecai had been angry- not at his brother, but at the rat that bounced out the way of them. He hated this incompetent head attached to him. Every time he glanced over even half an inch to the right, acidic bile rose to his throat.

They sat coiled up now, a day later without food. He was still fuming, while Henry had been quiet. Mordecai wasn't too sure why his other head hadn't been talking; but quite frankly he didn't care. He felt he'd begin to get delusional if he didn't consume something soon.

He couldn't move and that was Henry's fault. He was seemingly stagnant, unmoving. "We're going hunting again," he hissed with a particularly harsh edge to his voice. "We have to move." It took a moment or two before the right head of the snake slowly shifted and began to move, the now 20 inch long snake beginning to slither along the circuits of Canis in complete silence.

Mordecai did not mind the silence. He was afraid he would snap at his brother if he even dared open his mouth, and he didn't deserve that. Even though he hated the sight of Henry, he still didn't want him to get hurt.

Henry couldn't. He wouldn't. He didn't want to.

He wasn't stupid. He knew Mordecai hated him, and he tried hard to not make him mad. He hadn't said much after the rat got away and as Henry heaved the body that held two heads along, the feeling of dread was something hot and acidic in his head, boiling any other thoughts away from his mind. He could only focus on the hunt, now.

Still it was a hunt he didn't want to face. He thought the cave rats were 'cute,' despite their mangled teeth and faces. The way they spat and hissed even at their own peers - in a way, they reminded him of his brother; but he'd never say such a thing.

And before he could even comprehend, Mordecai was hissing at him about another rat. As Henry turned his head he could see they were directly behind a small rat, it's back was to them. Slowly, the mutant snake slithered up until they were an inch behind it.

A split second later, half of the snake had coiled around the rat, who struggled and flailed. Blinded by instinct, Henry only tightened his body around the rat tighter, restraining and choking it. Only when the adrenaline began to fade from his veins, did the head begin to shake.


"M... Morty?"

Damnit, Heinrich! thought Mordecai.

The right head's jaw had already unhinged, beginning to swallow the flailing rat head-first. He had managed to get the whole head down his throat when Henry whimpered once more, "M.. Morty, it's still breathing."

The rat wasn't just breathing. It was struggling for it's life and Mordecai knew this possibly more than Henry did, given that the rat was slowly making it's way down Mordecai's gullet. It was breathing and its back legs were twitching under their body. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Henry was shaking.

He couldn't voice any comforts, for perhaps more than obvious reasons, but he knew if Henry didn't realise that at first, he think he was being rude, despite an unhinged jaw and, again, a rat inside his gullet. It would be a fatality to their relationship- to what little there was to begin with, that is.

"Morty, it's warm."
I know it's warm, damn you.

A shiver went up to the back of the snake's neck, peering at Henry from the corner of his eye. He was worried now, if this would hurt for him. And if he was afraid of eating, it would be his fault, but how were they going to survive if they didn't hunt and eat?