[His eyes widen, a little sparkle of awe mixing with the fear. He remembers babies. Babies like the little pink rat babies he found under that old newspaper in the sewers, all blind and squeaky with little feet. He liked babies. He tried to take them home in secret and Splinter got mad at him. By the time he found out about it, the babies weren't wiggly and squeaky anymore, and he'd felt miserable.
He remembers this lesson. His expression turns grave, and he whispers grimly:]
no subject
He remembers this lesson. His expression turns grave, and he whispers grimly:]
'S gonna die.