[There's a lot of factual errors being thrown Steven's way right now. And it's his own fault, he realizes, for being vague about what happened. Of course Diavolo would assume he fed on just one person. Of course he would assume Steven regained control on his own, in the end.

He's about to respond when he sees the waitress lift up a cup of coffee, over by the counter, and the haphazardly-chosen words die in the back of his throat. Probably for the best. Waiting for the waitress to approach and set the coffee down gives him time to try and phrase it better. He gives her a quick, vague nod of the head in thanks and watches her retreat again. His right hand finds the coffee cup, the warmth seeping into his palm, and he finds himself unable to meet Diavolo's gaze.]

It wasn't... just one person. It started out that way- someone I know- but I got hungry again within four days. So I ran into the woods. And then... [He falls silent for a few seconds, his eyes scrunching shut.] I was lost for days. I'd snap out of it for minutes, an hour at most. But it was the fog over there, I reckon. And the powers used for... for hunting. I just... I kept losing myself over and over.