He led them back to the secluded corner where he had feasted on the first unfortunate wolf. The sight of the dead body drew a gasp from the injured girl. "Oh no… he must have had a rough struggle with whoever killed him," she whispered, her voice trembling.
Fergus' face remained innocent, but his mind buzzed with demented delight. He relished playing this game. "Don't worry," he said, his voice soothing. "It was a quick kill, he didn't suffer."
The girl's gaze turned to him as she she clung to her heavily injured sister despite her own wounds. "H– How do you know that?" she managed to ask.
"Because," Fergus said, his voice dropping to a low hiss, "I killed him."
A second of silence followed. Then, to his surprise, the girl let out a shaky laugh. "You? Kill someone?" she scoffed, clearly thinking he was joking. "You're just a little boy!"
Oh, that's right. Laugh all you want, food; Fergus thought to himself.