[Suzerain of Sheol]

Chomping down the jerky, more ravenous than grateful, Mansfield proceeds to lick the condescending stranger's hand in spite of himself.

"You see what you do to me, Sic? I've become a whore for morsels!" Looking up at the man, he lets his tongue loll out the side of his mouth. "There wouldn't happen to be more where that came from, would there? Oh say it's so, resplendent one." He lifts and waves his paw in excitement.

Rising from the carcass, growing less interested at the obvious synthetic nature of the beast, Laurent dabs out a touch of fugue oil to administer about his nose, inhaling the narcotic scent to still his nerves. The effort of human interaction is cause for agitation.

"You will have to pardon Herbert. The encepheloplasty has left him a slave to baser intuitions. A fact which torments him, do not doubt." Laurent does not meet the bombastic man's gaze as he speaks to him, electing instead to look upon the disfigured body retrieved from the monster's innards. "What do you make of this creature?" he asks. "I am surprised it died so easily."