Holy shit, there was a wheel spinning in there and there was a hamster running it!

The creature shifted out of the shadows, clearly cautious and wary, but making some poor imitation of the word "show" (at least he assumed, because it was still speaking in tongues, in his opinion.) Eythan turned warily, ears pricked back and half side-eyeing the creature from his periphery, but he carefully led the way out of the dead-end Chambers and towards a set of boulders often called home by the resident cave rat population. Well, one of their homes. The bastards seemed hell-bent on occupying every little nook and cranny, and biting any unwitting paws that stepped in those nooks and crannies.

All the more to hunt, he supposed.

As they neared them --- hopefully without any incident --- the spotted hybrid peered back at Azrael, elaborating further, "rats don't use words. You hunt things that don't use words. Hunting word-users is bad."

Eythan's ears pricked toward the rocks, already picking up on the minute shuffling of rats below. "Sh," he chirped softly, tail flicking, "watch." Then, with near-perfect predatory grace, he dropped into a crouch and stalked towards the rat-boulders, carefully leveraging himself atop them and staring down. At the slightest movement --- and with a bit of a blundering tumble --- the gryphon snared a rat by the scruff and shook it once. Its squealing (clearly not words) body smacked against the rocks once, stunning it, and he quickly maneuvered to snip its throat.

He moved over to the child, depositing the rat casually --- a gift, behind an outstretched leg, waiting for a response, or an attempt at one before he relinquished his hold on it. "Rat is food. No words," he repeated in encouragement. The strategy, here, was food motivation. Kind of like training a dog.

@Azrael

He slowly followed the four-limbs out of the cavern, his nostriles flaring as he breathed in the smell of what he assumed to be rat. It was familiar enough. Perhaps one day he would find a difference between the scents of the rats and other lessers and the scents of the four-limbs and the other greaters. For now, however, they just smelled of prey.

He wanted to dart forward and grab one but he glanced at the four-limbs-two-wings first. Maybe there was something specific he had to do. Was there a specific hunting technique he wanted to show him? But when he only observed a basic hunt, a little sloppy one at that, he grew even more confused. He could hunt better then that.

But he was not one to pass up food. He was still starving and the second that he was offered the rat, he reached forward and grabbed it, biting into it with large, savage bites. The rat was gone, not a single tuft of fur nor bone in about 10 seconds flat, leaving the demon to lick the excess blood off of his fingers. He rumbled contently and got fully to his feet, marching over to the rat's den.

The second he saw one of them he lunged forward, grasping at its throat and tearing it out with his talons. There was a shrill squeak as it died but he seemed unperturbed. The same savage display followed, tearing out bits of the rats in large chunks, crunching through bones, and finishing the whole thing only a little longer then the last.

Once he was done, he looked back towards the four-limbs-two-wings and thought he should say something. He tried to think, reaching through the many sounds he had figured out and came up with one that adequately described the situation at hand. "Hunt." It was more of a growl then anything, but it was a word. Perhaps the predator would understand that he already knew how to do this.

@Eythan