[There's a snarl of sorts, and then a pause. Aros seems to cock his head questioningly at the picture-feed thing for the journals and then makes an idly rip in the page of his journal as he 'replies' with--] Belong? [Phrased as a question, yes]
[For his answer, he shifts his journal to display his chest. See icon for the picture, but he basically opens up his chest cavity to reveal a hollow spot]
Heart-Less. We can't feel, we can't anything [Damn event, its making him actually talk; he's normally more phobic of words than Squall is] We exist to devour.
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The place where you fit in. The place you miss when you're not there.
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