He had turned away for a moment, scanning the contents of the lower tier of the cart before he heard the vial drop alongside another tinny clatter, prompting him to turn back towards them. Suddenly a hand was a few inches away from his face, the grey goo smelling acrid and sterile, another gurgle coming from his creation. He looks down at the discarded knife beside their leg and the grey liquid seeping out of the cut, slightly pried open from their creation’s prodding. He had heard no cry of pain, only the tinny clatter of the knife and the faint plop of what he assumes was his creation poking into the wound. 

The hand moves closer again, another gurgle, before gloved hands gently grasp theirs, holding it still. 

“That is part of you, yes.” he says slowly, grabbing a small cloth from the cart, keeping an eye on them. “You may have scraped a bit of fat.”

He grabs another vial, pouring a blend of diluted disinfectant onto the cloth, and wiping away the mixture of grey goo and liquid from their hand. He showcases the soft grey chunks smeared into the cloth, trying to indulge his creation’s curiosity. “See?”

After a few moments he sets it down on the upper tier of the cart, grabbing another cloth, dousing it in disinfectant and wiping away the liquid seeping from the cut. 

He looks up, guiding their hand to their leg and pressing it over the cloth. “Could you please press down on this for me?”