Discovery. The meat animals entered the room where the Kinslayer hid. A mature and a youngling, the mature went straight to the former youngling, the one the Kinslayer had drank.
Its wail tore something loose in the Kinslayer. Something buried deep. A memory. A memory of a night, long ago. Of a kin, no, not kin, not kin… a … person.
More meat animals rushed into the room. It was here! The One-who-traded-corpses-for-food and another came in. This was it! The Kinslayer’s purpose! One had succeeded in finding the One-who-traded-corpses! Fear! Panic! Need! One needed to act. One was afraid. One was unsure. The meat animals were alarmed. Unpredictable. Likelly to attack as a clutch. Success required control. One preferred to wait. To get the One-who-traded-corpses alone. One remained in one’s hiding place.
Then the Kinslayer heard it. It was too late.
They had come.