OOC: Okay, if we ignore the last post, shall I change what I'm doing? Since I can't delete posts, only edit them, so that would be pointless.
IC: Sturg got nearer to the place, and noticed only part was used. The bottom areas from the old factory had been destroyed mostly. He sensed signs of life there.
Due to the destruction, entry into the lower parts was easy. He looked around for some recognition of what this part was. A few old boxes lay around. Sturg guessed this was a storage room. He had been in a factory once before previously in his life, and had learnt a bit about them and how they work. Knowing what Rupture Farms had been for, he figured some old food remnants would be left inside the boxes. Ah, yes: Elum Chubs. At elast they'd be more natural for him to eat than Scrab meat, at any rate.
Chewing through the old wood, he began to dine. But then, drawn by the scent, a Scrab appeared. Sturg knew better than to mess with this big fella. He took a mouthful and ran off out the way. As long as the Scrab had its own food, it wouldn't bother chasing the speedy Meech. If it rememebered what a Meech was. Come to think of it, Sturg hadn't even seen another Meech for years. Maybe Rupture Farms had caught him by mistake? He looked around more. No Meech flesh products were around. A few Paramites crawled around in the darkness, contented already so they weren't a bother.
He found a pile of old, advertising posters. He looked at them...Scrab Cakes, Paramite Pies...hmm, whats this? Meeh Munchies? Then he noticed something else...EXTINCT!? Was that serious??? Oh Shrykull, what could he do? Too distressed by the possible death by the whole entire population of his species aside from himself, he curled up in a pile of papers, and just slept, spines and armour only protuding, making sure he looked inedible to anything looking for an easy meal that was larger than himself.
OOC: I'm surprised that that hasn't been DONE yet, Goresplatter.
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