A couple hours later, Claraføster was lurking in the near-solid darkness of another alley in the city. She was sitting on the ground against another dilapidated brick building, her legs splayed out in front of her, as she pet her stomach and sighed contentedly — she had just eaten her third human of the night, and was still relishing all the complex flavors that she had sucked out of it. This one had been a male, just like her first one, but unfortunately Claraføster had not been able to extract the landäshmend that she so craved after her first meal. 

‘Semen,’ she thought to herself. ‘The humans call the landäshmend “semen.” What a funny name for something so tasty!’ Even without the landäshmend garnish this man had been quite the treat, and Claraføster had sucked on him for minutes on end in order to extract every last bit of flavor from his body before she finally swallowed him down into her belly. 

‘I wonder why they always pass out in my mouth,’ she thought as she sat in the alley, cloaked by darkness, looking up at the city lights that twinkled around her. ‘I suppose it’s better that way. The poor little things don’t need to be suffering all the way down my throat.’ She knew that once the humans hit her potent stomach acid they only lasted a fraction of a second before they succumbed. Still though, she was beginning to wonder what it would be like to actually swallow a human who hadn’t passed out. Something about their little screams and cries inside her mouth gave her pleasant warm chills that spread up and down her body. 

‘They’re just such precious little things,’ she thought to herself. She really did harbor the tenderest feelings towards her prey. A lot of her fellow Hyrrokkin didn’t really study humans — they just ate them and went about their business, not even bothering to think about their food and where it came from. 

But something drew Claraføster to humans. She was absolutely fascinated by them. And in the cities, she was able to observe them and their behavior up close. She thought it was adorable that they wore clothes. Their little hats and pants and dresses and especially their cute little gloves and shoes — they were almost unbearably cute. And so perfectly unaware that they could be her next meal. 

There was no contradiction between her love for humans and the fact that she ate them. And not only that: Claraføster ate humans, and that was precisely why she loved them. She needed them for her sustenance. They were literally made for each other, the predator and the prey. And Claraføster had grown up into an impressively thoughtful Hyrrokkin, who deeply considered everything she did and thought profoundly about her own existence and position inlife. To her, the fun and delicious cat and mouse game she played with the humans was all part of the beautiful circle of life. It was as natural and as gorgeous as a sunrise or a cool afternoon breeze on her cheek. 

She had three humans in her belly, and she sat there in the dark alley for a few more minutes, sighing happily as she felt them digesting quickly in her powerful stomach. Three was sometimes enough for one night, but Claraføster was particularly hungry tonight. She knew that she wanted more, and she also knew that she craved another taste of that delicious landäshmend that could be so elusive. She had been high on the success of her first successful landäshmend extraction of the night, and had been disappointed not to succeed with the next human male she ate. 

Almost without a sound, Claraføster hopped up from her sitting position onto the balls of her feet, maintaining a crouching position as she listened and lightly sniffed the air for signs of her next meal. ‘This time,’ she thought determinedly, ‘I’m going to get that landäshmend. I don’t care how long I have to suck its little penis.’ 

A few minutes later she smelled the flesh of a young male approaching the alley. She had snuck into an alley by a nightclub, because she knew from experience that young men would come out of these buildings late at night, often drunk with their alcohol (‘how adorable and vulnerable they get when they’re drunk!’), and would be easy prey for her to snatch up. And that’s exactly what this young man was: easy prey. She could hear his little voice ringing throughout the street.

‘He must be very drunk,’ she thought, creeping quietly around to the mouth of the alley. Ever so carefully, she peered her huge head around the top of one of the alley buildings and looked out into the street. 

‘Perfect.’ There he was: a young man in jeans and a leather jacket, in his early twenties, was swinging this way and that down the sidewalk, his steps and posture uneven and wobbly, singing loudly about how he “had the bitches and the dough” or whatever funny music these humans listened to. It was perfect; he was coming right at her, and he didn’t even know it. 

She was about to reach her hand out and snatch him right off the sidewalk when he actually turned directly into the alley, and Claraføster had to quickly improvise and hide herself up against the dark alley wall. She wasn’t worried — she had done this kind of thing many times before. It was just a little more time that she got to spend watching her prey. This was a special treat for her. 

The man had stumbled into the alley, still singing loudly, but now he was unzipping his pants and feeling up against one of the alley walls. A light steady trickling sound began to echo off the brick and rusted metal. 

‘Oh!’ thought Claraføster as she watched him urinate. ‘The human’s expelling its waste!’ This was her lucky night — they always tasted better when they were waste-free. ‘He’s getting himself all nice and tasty for me,’ she thought hungrily as she continued to watch him urinate. His little head lolled up and with an open mouth he looked up at the sky as he peed, obviously enjoying the experience. Claraføster stood there like a huge silent statue in the shadows. She was glad that she could allow him to have this one last experience before she ate him. Her mouth began to drool and her stomach rumbled a bit. 

“Huh, a dog?” came the man’s voice from down below. He had finished urinating and was stumbling toward her. Apparently he had heard her stomach rumbling and thought it was a dog growling. “Don’t hurt me, I’m —I’m nice,” the man said drunkenly as he spoke out loud to himself. “Good little pooch — I’m gonna, I’m not gonna, gonna hurt you.” He laughed aimlessly in the air and turned to leave the alley. 

Claraføster bent down methodically and plucked the man off the ground. He was too drunk and surprised to react and simply hung there limply in her hand. She placed her thumb gently over his mouth as she brought him to her face. 

“I’m going to eat you little man,” she whispered to him excitedly as she licked her big lips at him with her long red tongue. “I’m going to suck on your tasty flesh. But first I’m going to make you squirt that landäshmend onto my tongue. I’m going to make you shoot it out and I’m going to lick it up and eat it all. Mmmmmmm.” And she gave the man a long luxurious warm-up lick down his entire body as she went with him deeper into the alley.