Razeal narrowed his eyes.
There it was again that weird strange pull.
An intoxicating allure faint but persistent, crawling under his skin like static. It came from the hound's corpse. An aching pull twisted in his chest, urging him forward, toward the hound's corpse.
He stepped closer, slowly, his boots making faint crunching noises on the grassy ground. The scent of burned fur and coppery blood lingered thick in the air. His gaze never left the hound's bloody body.
Then, with practiced precision, Razeal crouched beside the body and pressed the blade back into the ruined chest deeper this time. He carved through muscle and bone without hesitation, cutting toward the center of that strange resonance humming at the edge of his perception.
A soft click.
And then, embedded deep within the remains, he found it.
Found it.
His fingers reached inside, curling around something smooth, cold… pulsating faintly like a dying heart.
He pulled it out.
A core.
