[Gallagher]

The somethings were getting... angry? No. Just the Lion. At least, he could see no other reason to kill, yet not feed. There was too much jabbering for him to keep interested in their little scene. Only one made any sense to him.

Flesh, so it had called itself. That was a title he could recall.

Making sense was hardly interesting.

He huffed, his attention turned to where the butcher had once waited for them. A few steps took him away from the volatile group, to kneeling before a pile of ash. Tilting his head this way and that, he reached out, blackened his fingertips with the remains, then brought him to his tongue.

He preferred the snakes.