* * *
Kiley
* * *

"Kiley, I'm hungry."  Marco's voice rises up to me in its characteristic whine.  He's always the first to ask when the next meal is, though to his credit, the rest of the camp is quick to echo him every time.  Everyone's hungry.  Everyone's always hungry.

* * *
Lyric
* * *

I watch.  I watch Myles from behind a big, safe, sturdy rock.  I watch him hack into one of the walking corpses with that great big sword of his.  He runs one of them through with a plunging motion that I wouldn't think possible, but somehow yes, he does manage to completely skewer the once-person with that bastard sword.  He pulls back then, to draw the blade out.

Then a grimace passes over his face, a sawing sound cuts through the air, and he realizes the blade is stuck in the monster's ribcage.  Meanwhile, a growl cuts through the air... or a mutter, or something else.  They always sound like they're talking to us.  That's the worst part, maybe.

Myles is definitely stuck, his grimace now a look of pure confusion.  "Thete?  You killed it, right?"  He wiggles the hilt of his sword, but the corpse stays on it.  Worse, it flails at him a bit, and makes what sounds like a whimper.