Swiftcurrent Creek Pulcinella

From the earth, something was procured. Were such things buried everywhere? Was it some kind of plant that had yet to push up through the earth and reveal its flower? She tilted her head to regard him with serene confusion for a moment, before she bent to sniff the hoof. 

With its ankle bone still in tact, the cloven hoof sported two toes and smelled musty, earthy. She liked the scent of it, though it didn't appeal at all to her apatite. What appealed to her were the sharp, pointed toes. Little fangs, she thought, and she wondered how sharp they were. She reached out with a paw, and began to press her pawpad down onto the tines, blinking as she felt the prick of the sharp edge. She hesitated. The sensation was unpleasant, but familiar. She paused. 

Then, with no warning, she slammed her paw down onto the hoof as hard as she could. Fortunately for her, her large pawpads were clumsy and the hoof skittered away rather than piercing her foot. She watched as it eventually slid to a halt, spinning, and then looked at her overturned paw as it smarted slightly. 

No blood, just the familiar feeling of pain.