*Mmmrrmmmpp*

"Stupid lawnmower." Logan grumbled as the manually pushed machine sputtered and died. After moving the mower to keep any extra grass from keeping it from starting up again. One....two....three pulls on the rope and nothing happened. "Son of a bitch, what is wrong with this thing." Logan continued to mumble to no one but himself as he lifted the side of the mower so he could reach under for any debris. All he was met with was a slick, yet dry, sensation on the tip of his fingers. "Great, thanks dog poop." he thought as he retracted his hand. A strangely clean hand at that. Logan shrugged and headed inside anyway to wash his hand and grab water.

The parasite had evolved to painlessly and quickly bond with it's host. Makes gauging the potential of whatever host it decided to take much more subtle. No need to draw any un-needed attention. In the 15 seconds it had taken Logan to get inside and to the kitchen, it had already gathered information and statistics about its host.

Basic information: Logan Rampart. Caucasian Male. Age 30. Height 5'10'' Weight 216 lbs.

Advanced information: Anger, guilt, shame, military experience, and vengeful

I can work with this the parasite thought to itself, careful to hide it's own thoughts from the host. I just need to start nudging this creature in a desirable direction.