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There was definitely something wrong with it.

Mekh continued to chew thoughtfully, however, rolling the taste around in his mouth as he wavered between swallowing it or spitting out the chunk of flesh entirely. He'd eaten enough half-rotten corpses in his time scavenging before Seti, and so he wasn't too terribly concerned with the idea of chancing it - after all, he'd always had an iron stomach.

He swallowed with a loud ulp.

How interesting! He hoped it wouldn't come back up in a few hours, but Mekh trusted his gut.

Maybe he should find something else to eat just in case.

Setting off at an easy trot, the coywolf began his hunt, nose to the ground as he swiftly caught the trail of a hare - a hare, laced with... he pursued the smell, faster and faster, brow furrowing in concentration. Flowers? Honey? What? Had every animal in the region fallen into a sticky beehive?

Was he ill? Was he losing his sense of smell, of taste?

Horrors above! He could not imagine a world without the complexity of flavor - growing somewhat distressed, Mekh quickened his pace until he was now at a near-gallop, following the trail with fear in his eyes.

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