[When everyone in the Junkyard had gained their demons' hunger, responses were mixed. Many were revolted by it, others resigned themselves to doing what they must, and some few revelled in it. Serph had kept most of opinions to himself, but in a way he is like Heat; blood and viscera sliding down his throat... it's a good sensation.

Serph fluffs his upper pair of wings before they settle.]

Why do you believe you should hate it?

[Serph gaze is steady on Jayce, non-judgemental.]

There's no shame in doing what we must to survive. And there's no need to make it more painful for yourself.