
Hellhound chewed noisily on a bone. It wasn't a bone from his kill. It was the carcass of a deer, clearly left lying for some time now. The meat was a mere memory, but bones... bones survived.
It cracked with a large snap. Hellhound gnawed all the more furiously then, seeking the marrow inside. He barely had a sense of smell and his taste wasn't much better, but even for him marrow was a rich and delicious treat.
He knew he must look macabre at that moment, and truly didn't care. He didn't think anyone was awake, let alone around. It was somewhere past midnight and before morning. The only things awake now were night owls and monsters. He never was sure what category he fell into.