That smell... that wonderful, mouth-wonderful smell.... and it was so close, so close... right there. It was so easy for him to -
Iosse fought internally, resisting the urge to eat his own spilled innards. The smell of his own blood was so lovely; it filled his mind, almost entirely blocking out any other line of thought. What would his Yeerk do? He knew Iosse 413 would not give in, but without his Yeerk, he simply couldn't. He did manage to settle for cleaning up what had already spilled – why let it go to waste? - and allowed the injuries to heal over. Food. Where is the food? Must eat. Have to. Iosse was still panicked by all that had happened to him, and he really needed the comfort of something to eat. The ship was upside down, due to the rolling, bouncing, and sliding that had resulted from the crash's angle of entry. It was fortunate that it hadn't been a direct impact. All of the foodstuffs had spilled onto the ceiling, which was now effectively the floor. He knew it would be smart to save his resources for later, but he ate everything he had. There's no more food. None. What will I eat? No, I can't starve. I have to find something.
After a bit of struggling, Iosse managed to get the hatch of the battered ship to open. He exited the ship, taking with him a Taxxon-fitted Dracon. The asteroid vaguely reminded him of Earth. Perhaps there were animals here. But maybe not. What would he do if there wasn't? To his left, there wasn't much... mostly bare ground with a scattering of small vegetation. But to his right, the signs of life seemed to grow. There were full grown trees in that direction. That was a good sign. He scurried off in that direction, powering ahead on his many rows of cone shaped legs. Please let there be food. There has to be. I need it...