Slipping off the road, his bulk seeming to never impede his ability to move quietly, Dufgal creeps through the woods proper, up the right hand flank of whatever was on the road. It doesn’t take the man long to see, once the distance is cut in half, and in half again, that these are not dead critters on the road, but pieces and
chunks of one larger animal.
Spotting a trail of gouged moss and disturbed forest litter, of trampled ferns and broken brush, the big thief thinks the animal on the road came this way before some predator caught it in the open. The now-dead creature came from the north, and at some speed.
The trio on the road move closer as well, and see that, indeed, these are meaty, red hunks of fur, flesh and bone scattered all across the road. There’s something vaguely recognizable as a haunch, there’s a hoof, there’s the tongue and lower jaw of some elk or huge deer, and there are broken ribs protruding like white fingers from the poor creature’s headless and limbless ruined torso. From that sizable mound have spilled — or been pulled — innards, intestines... all sorts of unidentifiable viscera.
It takes a moment, but eventually the group spies the largest part of the thing’s head, complete with its rack. Indeed — an elk, and a big one. One eye has been torn out, but the other, glassy and black, is wide with terror.
OOC:
Dufgal is in the woods still; presume the other three have come up to within ten or fifteen feet of these animal remains.