Blackfeather Woods Don't do that. Don't.

His eyes were ice on anger that the body had dared taste so bad, yet he did not speak even as the other was suddenly beside him and nudging him away from the corpse. he simply stared, rather annoyed, at the other, picking up on a newer word. rotted. the dead thing was rotted. 

perhaps...if he...but no. no more cannabalism for the boy, at least not for a while. he stilled as he stared at the other a moment longer, face falling into his ordinary,  bored expression, wondering if this male would speak again. his tongue flitted over his teeth, expression becoming disdainful as he caught the last scraps of disgusting flesh.