The red gives an irritable snort, scrubbing some of the blood from around her black nose and sniffing again. "No, they're not his," she concludes after a long moment. "No relation to him at all. Hnnf." With a few more disgruntled noises -what are Korat cubs doing running around without scent of an adult on the wind?- she digs her muzzle back into the stomach cavity. Redwood growls as she finds her delicacies all consumed, then wriggles her muzzle up towards the lungs and heart. A very loud POP erupts when she bites one lung to deflate it, then draws the flimsy lung-membrane out to gnaw on it.
