Usually, the comfort known as dead silence was the only thing Pharynx could trust nowadays. It was easy on his senses and it gave him a sense of peace and tranquility, something that was extremely rare for him.

But what was there to enjoy when Thorax wasn’t there?

“Pharynx…? You’re still not eating?”

“…not hungry,” the changeling gruffed, sliding his plate further across the table in a monotonous trance. 

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Once he finally reached the second floor, the shadow glided down a corridor leading to a partially open door, quite possibly a bedroom. Hesitantly, he reached out a shadowy foreleg and nudged it, wincing at the unexpectedly loud creaking omitted as it opened further. That was when he wandered inside the room

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