Put this off until I could do it in a right mind. >_>
At last, his prize lay before him exposed and helpless. The screams, the yelps his victim sang were beautiful, glorious songs; Mother Earth smiled her warmth down on him, so proud of his efforts and pleased with his sacrifice. He was ridding the world of scum like this tan-furred stain, cleansing the Great Mother little by little and feeling her satisfaction in the tickle of the wind, the chorus of the birds, her whispers in the brushing of the trees. His grin was maniacal. The Great Mother was proud of him. The birds were praising him. He just needed to finish the job.
The next thing he knew, his hand was held against his victim's face. Blood dripped in his eyes, on his nose, slid down his teeth. Razekiel ripped his ribcage open, slice by slice by slice, tearing apart skin and hair and muscle until the pearly white of his bones shone forth. Eyes wild, birds screaming his name, the coyote parted his scarlet-painted jowls and fangs and released the most maniacal of sounds into the sky. He had won. The stain had been removed; the Great Mother was cleansed.
The second his victim's body stopped moving, the coyote reached and snapped two of his brightest, thickest ribs from their bloody prison. Razekiel licked the blood away, relishing the taste and smell all the while, and tucked them away into his bag. With some knifework, they would make glorious weapons. This wolf's bones would be the death of another, and theirs would be the end for a third. It was an unending cycle, until they were all removed.
Razekiel stood, spit at the creature's face, and left him there. Scouts and stragglers would deal with the remnants.
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