They prefered their own company, honestly.

They didn't feel particularly lonely wandering Polaris on their own - they dared say that they felt content, albeit tired. Sleep wasn't much of a thing for them; perhaps it was their own endless curiosity that kept them awake or the festering pit of paranoia that told them sleep was no different from falling into death.

The last thing they wanted to do was have another conversation with Death. They last thing they wanted to do was have a conversation. However, with one basic need avoided, the rest had to be put into consideration. Breathing was alright. Hunting was something they had to improve on.

Their chest and belly felt tight. They weren't sure if it were from the hunger or the general condition of their body, but regardless, it was time to hunt for food.

(i-ignore that roll i'm sorry idk how that happened)

They had already discovered their fairly remarkable sense of hearing - they could hear the footsteps of rats from simply being in a five mile radius between them. At least, that's what it felt like.

Along with their sense of hearing, their sense of smell was also quite remarkable. By inhaling through their nose and opening their mouth they could practically smell the entire caves. They enjoyed it to an extent too - half-closing their eyes to savour the taste of dust and rock mixed with the general scent of life.

Their sense of sight? Well, they could see. That served them fairly well.

Regardless of this, they had never attempted to hunt. Perhaps that is why their chest felt so tight - or why they were weak and couldn't walk and always had to wheeze. Perhaps their basic function of breathing was not as perfect as they had once thought.

Regardless, they closed their eyes and pressed their nose to the ground, trying to pick out the smell of rat.

It was not their proudest moment.

Immediately, they inhaled a rock. They coughed and they spluttered and they sneezed until the tiny pebble came flying back out of their pig-shaped nose. Their sense-sponge hurt a little and there was a grinding, uncomfortable feeling in the back of their throat.

They shifted somewhat. No one had seen it - or so they had hoped. To see that would have meant seeing themselves, which was undesirable for a hybrid who only wished to be alone. A quick glance, left, right, behind him and in front of them however, told them that they were indeed, alone.

They had learned one thing from the events that had just transpired: a sense of smell is perhaps not required for hunting. If they had to use all five senses to locate something to eat, then so be it.

The hybrid went very still, over-sized ears pricking up as they began to listen.

Their giant ears had come to good use, it seemed. Somehow, they could manage to pinpoint a near by rat's movements, burrowing and scrambling against rock and dirt.

Their eyes shifted around the room, their ears twitched and moved. Hunting. How was hunting done? Their shoulders rolled back and they began to hobble forward towards the sound of the rat carefully, but their feet provided none of the necessary silence needed to sneak up on something as delicate as a rat.

Regardless, they'd have to try anyway.

They had gotten close enough to see it without it noticing. It was bigger than Morpheus would have imagined; fat and mangled, scraping it's claws against the cave wall. They paused briefly, perhaps thoughtfully, watching wide-eyed.

If they moved now, it would notice. They were positive of that.

Slowly, they tilted their head. The rat continued to work away at whatever it was doing - meanwhile, Morpheus began to formulate a plan. The gem between their shoulders began to shimmer gently, unnoticed by Morpheus themself.

Their ears jerked. A soft whisper sounded from the opposite side of him, near by the rat. It was nothing - perhaps a step or the cracking of rock, but regardless, the cave rat noticed it.

The rat reacted almost immediately, causing the hybrid to flinch and react from instinct. As the fat, bumbling beast came running towards them, they reached out with their boney fingers to grab it.

They missed the first time, but after turning heel and giving chase, the hybrid stumbled and wheezed before they threw themselves at the rat and managed to hold it down. Rasping, panting and wheezing the hybrid stared at the rat.

It struggled in their grip, desperate to flee and hold onto life for a few moments. For a moment, Morpheus was confused why it didn't just die at his simple touch, but after a moment instincts overtook him and with a bite to the back of it's neck, the rat was dead.

They couldn't not feel guilty as they bit into the rat, crunching the bones with crooked teeth and swallowing into a tight belly. They did, however, feel somewhat better afterwards, albeit heavier and sleepier. They shifted.

The rat (and, presumably Morpheus' muzzle) was coated in blood. They decidedly couldn't sleep next to such a filthy animal, and with the gem between their shoulders shimmering, the rat abruptly flew a few inches away. It did not wipe the blood on the ground clean, however.

It did not matter. The hybrid got up and began to quietly hobble away from their ravaged meal to find somewhere cold and dark to sleep.

[end]