"AWOOOOOORRRRP!"

It's the funeral hymn, the curtain closing, the confetti from a cruise ship saying 'bon voyage'. That belch is Golah's goodbye to his latest catch, a sign that everything they used to be is now just more Golah gut, save for those few lucky pieces of slime-covered fur. It's all that remains of them, expelled by the belch to give that chua a quick reminder that the new weight on his tummy had once existed as something else. It's their last act as individuals, their final cry to the world that they were ever there. From then on, it's nothing but silence as cushion to their host.

It's not so bad though. Spirits tucked deep away, they'll get to enjoy that infinite warmth, comfort and even see out of their predator's eyes if they concentrate. From them on, they can treat it like watching a movie in a warm hammock, passively swaying to and fro for the rest of their days. They'll still exist. They just won't exist as themselves anymore. To the outside world, all that will be seen is Golah. And they're Golah's tummy, not his lips. They're in no place to remind anyone who they once were.

Golah's belch isn't a goodbye to them. It's a goodbye to who they used to be, a farewell to everything that made them unique. Names, looks, hobbies, interests, feelings, it's all either digested or locked too deep in that gut to ever find. They're all just Golah now. They'll never be able to say otherwise.

((Art by  jerberjer))