Provide a smorgasbord of deceased rats

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A player-created Guide is available for this content: Parabola (Guide)
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From: Light Fingers: A Family Visit


Apparently the Hybrid has developed a particular taste for rodents.

Game Instructions: This will increase its Moon-Misery.

Unlocked with 500 x Rat on a String, 1 x Nodule of Pulsating Amber, Time to visit Clara

Locked with The Hybrid's Maturity 5


Success

A rat-feast

[…] Then you feed one of the expired rodents into the Hybrid's eager mouthparts. It devours the carcass in a single bite and crunches its small bones with evident joy. Once finished, its fleshy hands grasp for more.

[See table below]

[Find the rest of the story at https://www.fallenlondon.com]

Moon-MiseryDescription
1As Clara reaches to take the Hybrid back from you, its gaze is fixed unerringly at the tent ceiling. When her arm blocks its line of sight, it wails with heart-rending grief.
3The Hybrid no longer cries like an infant. It is silent, aloof. Occasionally it retreats to one of the dark corners of the tent and stays there for hours, watching.
4The ceiling of the tent is in tatters. "It keeps climbing up there and refusing to come down," says Clara, subdued. "Sometimes it sings, and even the birds of Parabola go quiet."
5As you examine the Hybrid, it spits a glob of moon-milk at you. You just manage to dodge it, and it splatters harmlessly against the cabin wall. "Careful now," says Dr Vaughan wryly. "You wouldn't want to fall in love."
6[…] an alien expression. "All day long it crosses back and forth across the ceiling, singing and wailing, […] sometimes they make me feel strange and horrid. Like my bones have fallen out and I can't move an inch. Other times it sends me softly to sleep."
7The Hybrid's mandibles are formidable. Its carapace is tough as tortoise-shell. Its claws are mantis-like. Its eyes blaze with alien intelligence. But it seems terrified of […] everyone but you and Clara. Only the two of you can induce it to climb down […]
8You note that the cabin is a complete mess. Torn papers, broken furniture, savaged bedding. "We tried to sing it the alphabet, […] Apparently it doesn't like songs other than its own. Or perhaps it just doesn't want to learn? It's difficult to tell."
9 - 10The Hybrid clings to the tent's ceiling, its voice raised in a mournful, keening song […] "You mustn't listen too long. It makes you ruinously melancholy. All you can do to shake it off is sleep, but the sleep is wracked by nightmares."