They assume a different shape as they become aware of the cancer that eats at their flesh. A revelation of death and life becomes more than just the pieces of dreams that it was in the beginning of this faceless creation. An anemone breathing; a cancerous wound. Tasteless in form yet faithful to all that it tastes; it remains though it remains insatiable. Wasting its form on the flavourless aura of hatred; born and bred in the incessant cesspool of neverness; it never preyed before it preyed on them. And though it hates them… It will remember them.