Alex very much indeed did not often leave body parts lying around. Well, not often, at least. There was the odd time that he did something stupid, ultimately out of clumsiness, that left him with leg and foot bones scattered across the ground. That was really the worst it ever got, however.
Today, Frost's nose would lead him to a zomboil who was simply lying down in the grass near the lake by the monsters dorm, a closed book beside him, head resting on hands that were folded behind. Yep, two hands, not just one, though the right was still looking fairly worse for wear. The rot that had sloughed away much of the skin, leaving some areas bare to the bone had begun to stave off, at least, and he no longer dwelled upon whether he would have anything left
but bone someday.
Staring up at the pumpkin sun, he was simply taking a break from his studies, his head full of too much information, and not just from schoolwork. When he heard the sound of padding footsteps approaching, her turned his head to the side, and blinked mismatched eyes at the wolfos as he drew near, eyeing the arm held in his hand.
"Frost." He said, in a casual manner, "What are you doing with an arm?"
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