[ Never one for propriety and being as selfish and self-centered as he is, Nigel is tempted to try and take part of the molting with him. He's always been endlessly clever, his hands twice so, and there is a fair share of knives among his things that could be up to the task. But, in the end, clipping a memento from one of her abandon husks isn't near as thrilling a prospect as taking one from her living breathing body, so Nigel abandons that train of thought, leaving it in a small coiled pile at one of the empty carapaces' feet.
When Nigel reaches this new door, he rests his hand lightly on the door handle, an ear pressed against the door itself. Listening, first. ]
➝ strange new creatures to scavenge your pores
When Nigel reaches this new door, he rests his hand lightly on the door handle, an ear pressed against the door itself. Listening, first. ]