[mariah?!]

The wyvern, however, only rolled yellow-gold slits skywards. Agitated by having woken up alone, he wasn't in the mood to handle one of dear ole' Annie's jealous bitch fits; and so he opted to ignore the black-scaled dragon, leaning back on his haunches and thrusting his snout deep into the gut of the carcass he'd made of an elk earlier, scissoring rows of acicular fangs, tearing away at the entrails and other such bloody goodness that adorned the corpse's insides.

"Fuck off, An," Israfel mumbled through a mouthful of gore, bracing a paw against the tattered throat as he struggled briefly with the task of freeing the heart from its cage, breaking the yellowed ribs with muted enthusiasm. Considering they were already cracked from the abuse he'd showered upon the creature earlier, it wasn't a surprise that they caved easily beneath his ministrations, leaving the heart vulnerable to the groping of the wyvern's clawed grasp.