He's laid bare, doesn't need chains and the Spook tilts his head. Regards him, chewing on a strip of flesh, watching the way his back bows. The hunter loves this. It'll be a pity to kill him but he's a loose end, a loyal dog gone lame and Foxoe's screaming at them from the wall, Jack's knife in his gut.
"No, don't-!"
Selfish little shit. He deserves it, deserves to be punished and the hunter, the dog? He wants it, wants the bone-white hands on him, wants the boot in his stomach, wants the way his guts spill to the side with the flick of a blade. Comes as he dies, high on pain and fear and something else, a kind of relief and Yzahi's never been an angel of mercy before but the dog'd been trapped in his own mind, his own-
He feels, abruptly, like he's missed something. Doesn't like the feeling.
"Sssshhsh," he says, leaning over as the light in the hunter's eyes goes out. "Will get to you in a minute."
Foxoe screams again, and Klue exhales a final time.