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It seemed as if he had disappeared from the world but no, he was still here. What was he doing? That was only known to the strange twisted mind of the insane creature.
The snow leopard had caught out three Tribers. Three was perfect enough. One was pregnant, which was quite a pleasant surprise to him. He conjured up a pitchfork, just for this little farming Clan and them slammed the butt end of it down the she-cat's throat, pushing through until the end came out bloody on the other side. He had torn out the children before and those--he impaled on the three tines of the pitchfork.
Number one was done.
Second one, he skinned, flaying it until raw red flesh gleamed in the spring sunlight. He gelded the tiger, wrapping the organs into the skin before hanging it up on the tree next to the body. He lit a fire underneath it, allowing the fire to smoke out the wet flesh.
Third was a kitten that had wandered out with the warrior. Oh, this would be the best. He found a stake, skewering the kitten from rear to mouth before setting it by the fire as if someone was ready to eat it. The fire singed off the fur, creating foul smoke that filled the air.
Rheon grinned as his handiwork before the snow leopard spread his ragged wings and flew back to whatever hellhole he had crawled out of.
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