It's rage, but it's checkered with something else. It's probably because Gabe still gives a shit, deep down. Even though he keeps claiming he's dying and he doesn't care. His face pulls into a small smile that doesn't even reach his eyes.

He's already sweating, already curled into himself and he feels like he can't move, the hunger is too strong.

"It's like dangling a chicken in front of a starving crocodile." His eyes slip closed. "You like poking things with a stick? It's not fun when you're on the other end."