Redhawk Caldera typical

A segment of the pelvis is blackened by the soil, but in probing he finds that it isn't just dirt, but dried blood. Old blood. Stuff that's dried to a nasty, ill shade of deep brown which likely soiled the bone from which it had come. There is no meat here — so he lifts and latches himself with crocodilian grace across the jutting bone segment. He is gnawing when a stranger comes upon him, and the voice makes him pause but not entirely stop.

Skaro studies him as best he can without releasing his grip; his ears twist, his nose takes a couple of long and deep breaths (his ribs undulating), and while he smells the sickening soil-rich aroma of the carcass, there is also the lively scent of many wolves upon the stranger. Finally he releases the curving hip and licks his lips, and then lets out a tiny chuff as if to urge some calm.