Dragon huffed in pride. They had done it!

The dog, the stag and the cat all wandered off--though to his credit, the deer at least gave the dead dog a solid few kicks. But still--off they'd gone, and hadn't even considered eating the thing.

Well, not this alligator! This was a big meal, and he wasn't going to let it go to waste.

"We feast, brother! WELL done!" he bellowed in approval. His jaws then snapped shut over a limb, and the alligator rolled over and over in the muck, tearing one of the dog's legs away.

Its blood dripped dark, and tasted rotten, but Dragon ate putrescent corpses on a daily basis. He hardly noticed as he began to gulp down shreds of flesh.

Between bites, he praised his brother. "You fought well! It could not touch you! Whatever this thing was--"tear, gulp, swallow"--it will not threaten the Children further!"

Dragon would remain behind, eating--then whatever he and Septiezal didn't finish, he'd drag off to the Pile. Their father, too, would feast.