
Caspar's face bore little expression as he leaned down to take a bite out of the hare he'd just killed. His mother was an angeni, an herbivore through and through. His father was more like him, with three wings and a predator's paws. His father had taught him to hunt for his meals. It was one of the few things Caspar felt he shared with him.
The hare was a lean thing, hardly any meat on her. Caspar looked down at his prey with mild distaste. She probably wouldn't have survived the winter with that little flesh. He was doing her a favor, when it came down to it.
That's what he told himself as he ate her, though he really didn't care enough to need such moralistic inventions. He'd done worse things in his life than kill an animal. He would do worse things yet, too.