Gasping for breath, you jolt up, your breathing rapid and wheezy. A cold sweat runs down your back, a blanket half-heartedly draped over your lower half. A horrible headache overwhelms you, and it feels like you're waking up from the worst hangover ever.

Due to the nasty pandemic that had hit The Rings a month ago, you had been forced to partner up with an.. unsavory individual. Citrus and you had joined forces at the start of the apocalypse, since he figured he'd need an accomplice from then on. You help him hunt for survivors to eat, and he doesn't, y'know, kill you and eat your soul. If you fail to catch a survivor, then he eats only some of your soul. As much as he desires. That was the deal.

And, as fate would have it, it happened that very day. Two survivors had managed to slip away from you both, to Citrus' displeasure. And... well, you had to keep your end of the deal. The memory was fuzzy, god, your head was pounding. Last you remember, Citrus was pressing his mouth against your chest and... eugh, god, he really did eat part of your soul. Quite honestly, he didn't seem like even he was sure you'd live himself, but...

By some miracle, you survived.

Turning your head, you notice Citrus, curled up near you. Not next to you, but near. Odd. Being a bat, he always slept upside down, high above the ground. Was he... watching over you? He did seem nervous he'd kill you, but... no. No. He's a monster. A murderer. Vile. One of his eyes peek open, perking up immediately once he sees you awake. His gaze is soft, but he quickly shakes it off, turning back into the sharp survival partner you know.

".. uh, hey. You should... probably get some more rest." He mumbles, laying down once more and closing his eyes.