Loaded

Ira panted, flinging himself over a fence, landing on his heavily booted feet. He bit his tongue hard as punishment for that confrontation with that pink demon. He hated this city, for this reason. But part of him loved this city. Possibly for the same reason...never knowing what’s coming next. Never knowing what’s going to challenge him next. The exotic people. It was too much and not enough. A little part of him wanted to ask everyone for their story. Any story. He was hungry for everything that could be offered.. Speaking of hungry. Ira’s stomach ached. A familiar feeling, he didn’t feel sharp pain anymore. Just dull throbbing, almost-numb aches. His tongue was often scabbed, if not bleeding, from his own teeth. His digestive system begging for work to do. He pulled a flask out of his left boot, and drank some water. He partly wished for something stronger. He was angry for how he acted in front of that being. She had her attention firmly placed on him, and that wasn’t ever good. But it was exhilarating. Ira flung himself over another fence, a few blocks away from that alley. He needed food.