A lone zombie actually has decent hearing if nothing rotted out - much easier to hear the Living when you're not surrounded by everyone else moaning up a storm.
It's the scrape of Beth's shoe that causes R to turn around with that boneless swing of his arms telegraphing just how dead he is. For some reason he's held onto the lighter since discovering it in his hoodie's pocket. It's a nice texture, R thinks, and he likes the color of it so he's kept it with the vague idea of adding it to his hoard back at the airport. As he wheels around with all the coordination of a drunk, his grip on the lighter loosens, sending it flopping from his fingers to hit the floor between them with a light tink.
R comes to a stop, standing there facing Beth with his eyes on the lighter and for a moment, he looks downright lost. Beth's smell fills his nostrils, a spike of electricity sizzling along the back of his throat, and he can't tell if he wants to go for her first or pick up the lighter. She smells really, really good, good enough to eat and then wallow in the guilt later.
The hunger though, doesn't jerk him forward, leading R to think he ate recently. R's eyes flutter to Beth to stare vaguely past her before he starts to stoop for the lighter on the floor, knees creaking. It's almost painful to have to sit there and watch.
typo
It's the scrape of Beth's shoe that causes R to turn around with that boneless swing of his arms telegraphing just how dead he is. For some reason he's held onto the lighter since discovering it in his hoodie's pocket. It's a nice texture, R thinks, and he likes the color of it so he's kept it with the vague idea of adding it to his hoard back at the airport. As he wheels around with all the coordination of a drunk, his grip on the lighter loosens, sending it flopping from his fingers to hit the floor between them with a light tink.
R comes to a stop, standing there facing Beth with his eyes on the lighter and for a moment, he looks downright lost. Beth's smell fills his nostrils, a spike of electricity sizzling along the back of his throat, and he can't tell if he wants to go for her first or pick up the lighter. She smells really, really good, good enough to eat and then wallow in the guilt later.
The hunger though, doesn't jerk him forward, leading R to think he ate recently. R's eyes flutter to Beth to stare vaguely past her before he starts to stoop for the lighter on the floor, knees creaking. It's almost painful to have to sit there and watch.
"Hgnh...."