Blood gushed out through the deformed gap between Tychon’s upper lip as he bit through the soft flesh of a dying deer. It had collapsed out of starvation; winter was a cruel season for herbivores. But for Tychon, the doe’s death was another week of life. A fucking demented one, but what the hell? He may as well take the time he was given. He had at least a billion years to be unconscious between dying and when his soul decided it had better wake up again to see what the universe was up to.

The doe made no moan of distress as his ripped open her skin; she’d resigned herself to fodder. Her consciousness fled her as he snapped up the morsel he tore away. Out of his peripheral vision, he observed her eyes dull and close in her last effort as a living being. Tychon buried his mouth into her stomach again to pull at abdomen muscles. Too much blood pooled over his lips and the liquid was guided up by the funnel of his cleft lip and into his nose. He gagged on it and hacked up the blood softly after. Tychon sneeze several times in order to clear his breathing passages before he dug back into his meal, wheezing and grunting like a pig searching through slop.

His wretched eating was the result of his misshapen mouth and nose. Tychon wasn't terribly impressive in size or color either. He was average sized, sturdy, and brown. He looked nice from behind, he supposed, because of the luxurious quality of his plain fur. But other than that, he hadn’t much going for him physically. Being average with a defective gash on his face pretty much just made him ugly.

Tychon slurped in another mouth full of warm flesh, but the meat was already starting to freeze. In a few more minutes, this carcass would be difficult to rip meat off of. He’d have to sever a leg and take it with him; he wasn’t going to sit around in the open for longer than he had to. Already, his fur was prickling with unease. He didn’t fancy the thought of being gained up on and liked the thought of someone coming to play hero even less. Only a few more gulps of the doe’s bland insides, though, would do his stomach wonders; he’d get as much in as he could until she was too stiff to briskly gorge himself on.