i'm going off the rails on a crazy train

Her face changed, but Pura could not discern her expression. "Her. That's what you're supposed to do," he informed her dully, breaking eye contact in order to stand and dragging his paw reluctantly away from the still warm cheek of his victim. The action closed her staring eye, and were it not for her throat, which was hanging on by threads of sinew and a crushed rings of oesophageal cartilage, she might have been sleeping.

Pura bent down and seized the body by its still sturdy scruff. "I will bury it," he informed his pack-mate through clenched teeth. "You can help," he offered experimentally, "If you want to."