Moonspear pumpkin eyes

If there was ever a reason to doubt Revui's abilities, this game might hone in on those inadequacies and make them glaringly obvious; Hydra may have intended this with the toss of the skull down the mountain. He would fight the sense of vertigo that slowly drifted through his body. Likewise, Revui tried to judge where the head would tilt or tumble next with the intent to intercept it. As the head fell it left patches of oily, red-hued patches of blood and hair; each time Revui missed, he nearly careened in to these bloodied marks upon the stone until he was furious with the desire to end the game. 

The end came as swiftly as the beginning. The head rolled and the canid muzzle caught sharply berween a pinch of shake, splattering the air adjacent in a red spray. Revui almost missed it; his dense body would have sailed right on by had the head's motion not ceased so dramatically. He stumbled and fought gravity in order to stop. Afterwards, as the dirt and debris settled around him across the slope, Revui turned his full attention to the mess and bolted straight for it.

The boy sank his teeth in to the sockets and crunched through the zygomatic bone segregating them, felt the wet sink of his snout in to the mushroom-like membrane within, and rumbled a deep note of pleasure as he made a show of lifting away the fragmented face. Material dropped from his snout and blood fanned up as his head moved. He sought out his sister with a frenzied look in his eyes, relishing the success.