That’s odd. I never tasted anything like this before.
The man finally resorted to use the Chrysleat. Despite the refreshment of water, he needed sustenance. It had, he reasoned, become a necessary risk. His hunger had arisen treble. Although he didn’t know the being that was his host he knew instinctively that this being was not young. This knowledge had partially discouraged him from using the Chrysleat, except sparingly until now. At first, he had been tentative with its use. Almost snooping on padded feet as he merged with his host. Immediately he understood that his host was eating which also meant that he wouldn’t have to draw nourishment from his hosts reserves. Although the meal would not fill the man up as it normally would the man didn’t need a lot to satisfy and nourish himself. He knew that his metabolic process needed little more than a few tastes to rectify his hunger. Water, liquid, was different. His metabolism required much more water and it was just the Old Man’s good fortune that the man had come across the Monolith when he did. He had consumed over a gallon of water over the past few hours so actual food was not needed and he was relieved that he could spare his host what might otherwise have been a life threatening acquisition of nourishment.
Gradually and carefully he withdrew his consciousness from his host. Again, trying to stay on padded feet so as not to upset the Old Man anymore than could be helped. He hated this thing he was starting to realize was leeching. Over the past several days he had realized that he was nothing more than a, what was the symbol he saw in the Old Man’s mind, a mosquito. He had seen one on the Old Man’s arm through his eyes as the Old Man cursed and swatted it from his arm. The smear of blood on his arm was enough to inform him that the mosquito and what he was doing was one in the same.
As he gingerly backed out of the Old Man’s mind he caught a glimpse there that should not have been. No, certainly not. He saw the Monolith behind him in the mind of his host. Perhaps it was his slow withdrawal or the acute awareness of the Old Man but there it was in stark relief; and he, himself, was in the picture. Just as suddenly, he saw the Old Man’s eyes piercing through lightyears at him as the Old Man said to him, “I see you! You SON OF A BITCH!”