Ouroboros Spine I am that is

Goldhawk's ice-addled mind decided to ignore the bits of conversation that made it clear this was a real-life wolf in the world of the living, and instead he concentrated on the bits that stood out as otherworldly. The other Goldhawk was vain. Yep, that sounded like him alright — the soldier would rarely call himself pretty, but he certainly knew he was a jolly handsome sort.

The dry warmth of the frustrated Other was working fast — he could feel his limbs again, which he did not like at all. But he kept his eyes stubbornly closed. I don't think so, me. I'm clearly as dead as a dodo, an' I respectfully demand the right to choose my own bloomin' afterlife. When I next open my peepers I want to see an angelic lass holding a dripping leg of boar.