“The name’s Alfred,” he said immediately feeling something of a mix of customary introduction and embarrassment, knowing full well that she was present for his initial presentation back in the ward. The creature hesitated for a moment and watched him, almost too afraid to accept that he was genuinely sharing his name and looking for something in return. He extended a hand, at first out of habit, then caught himself, not wanting to frighten her further and not wanting his hand bitten off by whatever was hiding beneath that fabric.
She did not quite react to this gesture in kind. She only sidled a little closer to Alfred (never actually touching him) and in a voice that felt equal parts pure and frail from disuse, she simply said, “Carrion.” An odd name, if he heard it correctly. Alfred wondered if there was a particular way of spelling it that didn’t relate to foul meat.
Their interaction ended when Tabitha returned from down the hall a little ways. “Did you hear that?”
Alfred had not noticed much of anything beyond this novel interaction with Karen. But as he glanced to her, he could tell she was not as ignorant of Tabitha’s observation. The creature’s head was cocked forward, back arched and alert. It reminded Alfred of how she’d reacted to his own approach earlier. When she was looking up at him with those full moon eyes, it was difficult to see the beast that had growled at him only a scene before, but this thing was now hunched over so far that it might have been on all fours.
A voice came echoing through the halls of the asylum like it was a cave complex that held a wounded beast in its depths. “Did anyone hear what it said?” Alfred asked.