Quagmire, breathing heavily, with his knife plunged deeply within the head of the ghoul before him, quickly readjusted himself and pulled the knife out as quickly as he could without the possibility of stumbling down.
Perhaps he had gotten too overconfident, as he finally felt he was adapting to the world he was in. It would seem that reality had found another way to destroy his illusion. This was the very first time he had seen a ghoul calling for its comrades. He knew they were intelligent, but at the same they are dead, so should that intelligence be severely limited?
He does not know what to do or think about it, he would need to observe, go out of his base more, and study the ghouls' behaviors more. Once he had raised his sons back home in the base to be independent enough, he would scout much farther into the wilderness.
