Gyrfalcon's Keep red hill

Granite ate with the voracity of a labrador retriever who had just broken into a bag of its kibble. The plat du jour was a fawn's ribcage, aged two months and marinated in its own au jus with a crust of earthy loam. Slavering, he crunched bone and sheared meat from the skeleton.

Granite, completely fixated, hardly noticed the colossal male. His baritone voice nearly made the boy jump out of his skin.

Grrrr, he growled. Instinct switched to autopilot as the child snatched what was left of the carcass and scooted away. His hackles stood on end from tip to tail and his pupils were so large that they eclipsed the green of his iris.

Was he just a small fry about to be swallowed by the biggest bass in the lake?