[A pang of guilt. If he hadn't died, Ingo wouldn't be this sad, he would have at least not laid on the floor.]
[Emmet shook his head, moving to bump his head against Ingo again. He was hungry, but he didn't want to not be near Ingo, and cooking would mean Emmet would have to get out of the way.]
[Once it felt decently soft, he swallowed the bit of jerky. He ripped off another piece. Put it in his mouth. A part of him hoped this would give him the energy to soon stop smelling like blood. Like cold, despite knowing he didn't- it was still in his nose.]
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[Emmet shook his head, moving to bump his head against Ingo again. He was hungry, but he didn't want to not be near Ingo, and cooking would mean Emmet would have to get out of the way.]
[Once it felt decently soft, he swallowed the bit of jerky. He ripped off another piece. Put it in his mouth. A part of him hoped this would give him the energy to soon stop smelling like blood. Like cold, despite knowing he didn't- it was still in his nose.]