Sea Lion Shores The primordial dogs of God

He ate as commanded, an appeased grin slowly pooling across Furiosa's stained face as she watched him.

That's it. There's a good boy...

She dug in too, savoring the  the warm ooze of blood down her throat, and the sound of flesh tearing as they feasted. She kept her ears perked, in case he had any friends looming on the sidelines, but all she could hear— besides their collective slurping, slopping, and crouching— was the howl of wind and sand dancing across the damp beach. When she glanced at her lunch guest, she found his gaze flitting away, as if he'd been looking at her too, and the huntress began to tug more readily at the line brandishing another type of prey on its other end.

Licking her chops two or three times, she took several steps back from the kill and gave her gore-flecked body a quick shake; and when she was still once more, her eyes filled with oblivion were on the young male again. "I'm Furiosa," she introduced in her naturally imperative way, though her body language had become decidedly very lax. "Tell me, Streiter: where is your family? Why've they let you get so thin?" She knew he was alone, but it seemed easier for her to pretend not be all-knowing for the time being.