Wheeling Gull Isle glory

its head lifted when his did, craning and craning to look upon his visage, mind starved for another's misery as the body was for blood. 

it saw the preacher's eyes shield themselves with holy light.

he could not see past the illuminated ring of own belief.

black of lips pulled back on one side, teeth bared and cheek lifted to squint the eye in a quick grimace, like a glimpse of something pallid and tall beyond a friend's shoulder.

with a scoff the dead looked away, turning its back. only a faint memory of healthy flesh lifted its sickle tail as it stepped away.

"is that, what you see me as? firstling of your flock?"

"oh!" head lifted as a wolf's did to howl, voice a ruff even as it rose. "does fruit of the ground not fill your belly, o vast and hungry shepherd?" it mimed reverence, mocked pleading, calling out to the rippling lights of the cave ceiling. "please, remember, when the firstborn heard your disapproval, it was the younger's flesh he offered instead!"