Haunted Wood the devils of truth steal the souls of the free

The morning light slanted through the trees around the pit, glimmering off of the ice that had begun to cling to naked limbs, and as Revui woke from his half-sleep his breath fumed from him in the manner of a dragon's smoke; exhaled from his nose, he looked utterly reptilian where he lay. There were new scraps scattered along the edge of the pit but he did not turn his attention to them immediately, as he once did. This time he shook his head and shoulders, trying to rid the groggy feeling from his mind, and his dulled gaze latched upon the ginger-and-dark shape of a sleeping boy. He hoisted himself to his paws (careful of his broken hind, which throbbed no matter what he did with it), and sought about gathering up the scraps in to a pile.

He had the inclination to eat it all himself; knowing that once he was healthy and his limb was working, he would be able to free himself from the pit and tear his captors a few new holes. He relished the thought of eating their faces, breaking their legs, tearing them off like one might tug the legs off a spider — but the images of violence and retribution flit through his mind very swiftly, then were shunted to the back of his mind and locked away. He chose to pile the meat closer to the boy; then, taking the largest of the (rather pitiful, desiccated, almost inedible) scraps, tossed it at @Orochi's face with a satisfying thunk.