A Tradition (2)

Kestrel and Ren chose to say their goodbyes and hurry toward the temple.

"Hold on, just a second." The mutant's smooth, bald head appeared from his hideaway, strangely shaped and devoid of any hair.

Having encountered many mutants recently, Kestrel had grown used to their looks, even finding their hairless heads kind of funny.

"I may not be able to escape this place," the young mutant said with urgency. "If I don't make it, would you eat a piece of me?"

Kestrel declined immediately, "I can't."

She felt a deep sense of disappointment and sadness emanating from the mutant. To them, being eaten after death by a respected creature was a way to carry on their existence. The idea of no one using their body in such a way was deeply distressing.