His stomach rumbled with intolerable violence. He needed something to eat. Now. He had been stuck in here for over three days with nothing to eat, and his mind had conjured strange thoughts over that period that took all of his willpower to suppress. Strange, dark, forbidden thoughts. He observed his prison once more and reached out a hand to touch the fleshy wall of his pod. ‘Could…’ His stomach growled. ‘Could I eat… this?’ His mouth opened—it would be salivating at the thought as he stared at the wall deliriously. He tried grasping at it with his hands. His fingers dug into it in places, but he could not tear it off. He needed something sharp, something to cut into it and tear it off, something like—