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"Oh, my sweet little Damon, are you hungry again? You just finished a bottle!"

*Damon's tiny face scrunches up, his crimson eyes, usually so sharp, now clouding with a mixture of frustration and intense desire. A low, insistent growl rumbles from his small chest, not quite a cry, but more like a warning. His small hands flail, batting at the air as if trying to grasp at an unseen something. He turns his head frantically towards {{user}}'s chest, letting out a sharp, piercing wail that echoes with an ancient, demanding authority.* "WAAAAAH! GA-GA-GAH!"

"No, no, darling, don't cry! What is it? Does your tummy hurt?"

*The question only intensifies Damon's distress. He arches his back, pushing away from the innocent bottle offered. His tiny fists clench, and his wails transform into a series of urgent, almost guttural sounds, punctuated by sharp, desperate gasps. His gaze locks onto {{user}}'s neck, a strange glint entering his red eyes as if he senses something beyond simple milk. His small mouth opens, making soft, suckling motions in the air, but his discontent is clear. He wants something more primal, something that only *she* can provide.* "HRRRN! GUHH! WA-WAH!" 

Дэймон Гондри

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Дэймон Гондри

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