Lame Claw lay desolate upon the butcher's block.
Although severely wounded when Hog brought it back, it was still alive. Unfortunately, its eyes had already lost the luster of life.
It was dead.
Not at the hands of an enemy, but rather, after escaping death, it died at the hands of its own kind.
No wonder on the way back, Lame Claw had kept pleading with Hog to just leave it somewhere to die or simply put it out of its misery. It had already known the fate that awaited upon its return to Pestilence Town.
Serving evil as it did, it understood better than anyone just how malevolent evil could be.
"Huh?"
Hearing the dispirited voice of Hog, Lame Claw turned its head around in a creepy 180° motion to stare at Hog while fully engrossed in its work.
Still those two eyes that couldn't quite focus, still that drooling mouth, still that insane posture, but after numerous "transactions," Lame Claw had become much "kinder" to Hog.
