Lion Head Mesa Lighthouse

Halfway eaten, not enough to be satiated. Glaukos, he answered through a mouthful of flesh, swallowing.

The rest went quickly enough — only bones left, which he arranged in a quick pile using his snout to pivot pieces. Licking his lips, the soldier looks to the hallway and the distant, busy figures.

How do you live like this? In the ground. His breath is sour from the meal.