[Salone]

Delicious.

Lev wiped his face of the gore and matter that had splattered it, and devoured what little he could pass between his lips without being caught. It was rancid, foul, but intoxicating. It was an appetizer that left him wanting more. Delirious, his eyes rolled back in to his head as he slid a scrap of flesh in to his mouth. His fingers trailed down his chin as he indulged himself. Oh, it was good to feed. It wasn't truly a meal, but it might tide him over.

He blinked, gathering himself and realizing he had lost focus. He found himself with the rest of the group in the forlorn graveyard that seemed to stretch without end. His eyes passed over the graves, struggling a bit to understand the words written on them. They were not his first language after all. As he read, the mutterings of the one called Thomas sped up his understanding of the words. Not important. Just graves. All graves, all the same message, uselessly marking where dust that rose up from the earth returned to rest and rejoin the dust from whence it came. No point in a marked grave.

He looked up when the man's recited message changed, noting the severity in his tone. On instinct he unslung his rifle, sliding the bolt back just a hair to double check that a round was chambered.

"Do we have problem?"