"Then do you remember how you lived when you were little?" Owen raised his head to meet Rowan's eyes - eyes that were cold but hid a sadness. His Omegina rarely mentioned his own affairs.
"Studying, military training, holding guns, fighting bugs." Rowan looked at Owen's curious gaze and thought for a moment. His life could only be summarized in those few dry words. No playing, no freedom.
Owen felt a bit of heartache hearing that; this was absolutely not the daily life a normal Omegina should have.
"No wonder you don't like bugs; you're traumatized." Owen tasted a piece of the roasted white-shelled water beetle meat. A strange fragrance wafted up; it was probably edible.
"Mm, I don't like them." But if it weren't for those bugs of the Insect Race, perhaps he wouldn't have ended up in this world and met this fool.
