[Krieg's teeth click together thoughtfully as he chews on the inside of his cheek. It's already been chewed through, his tongue nearly bitten to pieces when he'd struggled to wrench himself away, distract himself from a pain he didn't understand by applying a pain that he did.]
Carve out the innards!
[He agrees firmly. The soldiers are dead. It's time to be well shut of this place.
no subject
Carve out the innards!
[He agrees firmly. The soldiers are dead. It's time to be well shut of this place.
He moves for the nearest door.]
Cut to ribbons!