Barrow Fields the oblong box

They had their answer when Avicus surged back to her feet and went after the buck with a clipped command to, “Go!” Still slightly bewildered, Masque spun and did as they were told, heeling to the Wealda as she caught up with their prey.

He didn’t stand a chance under the onslaught of the pack. Masquerade shouldered their way in among the roiling bodies and snatched their teeth wherever they could reach to add to the bloodletting. The buck was torn apart—perhaps even killed—before he even fell to the ground.

Masquerade knew their place, which was near the bottom of the heap. They backpedaled away from the sagging carcass to await their turn, licking blood from their chops. They would feast when their turn came, long tail twitching as they watched Avicus beforehand and afterward.