PRIVATE why does it matter where we bury our bodies?

[kole.]

Kole's ears lay flat against the crown of his head, seated just slightly away from Vale's figure as the bird feasted upon Seamus's rotting corpse. The smell of fester and pus assailed his already sensitive senses, though Kole had spent enough time dwelling in less than savoury places to at least pretend as if he didn't notice the foul stench or the bloat.

Seamus didn't look much like Seamus anymore. Didn't make him any easier to look upon, though it eased Kole's sensitivity somewhat that he barely recognised the cheetah.

His gaze flicked to the scavengers circling overhead, peckish but too nervous to swoop down and take a bite of what they clearly saw as a tasty morsel, and Kole saw as stomach-turning. A corpse. A bloated, pus-filled corpse, at that. "I'm not," Kole pointed out blithely, rolling onto his side with a huff. It was warm here. Kole didn't feel quite so cold as he usually did—a small comfort, really. "They look tastier than Seamus does right now, anyway."

Not that Kole ever really went hungry anymore. He was still relatively full after he'd last fed from Meteor. The lion appeared to be adjusting to the biting pain of being, well, bitten, more and more each day.

"Are you going to throw him in, then? Assuming that's why you brought him here."