She’s not here and that matters but it doesn’t stop his drive to consume. He grabs a dress from the bed and buries his face in it, groaning. He’s an animal now. No thoughts but the drive to devour. He crawls onto the bed, tasting her sweat with his hands. Buries his face in her pillow. He’d like to roll in her scent. He’s not even a wolf anymore, but a dog. Smoothing his hands over every single remnant of her. Her clothes. Her toothbrush in the bathroom. He nearly gnaws on her hairbrush. Runs his hand over the damp bathtub and drinks the water he collects.
