The gryphon fixed Al with a steely glare before looking sympathetically to Mary, and then down to his meal. He so wanted to indulge his instincts, to ravenously tear into the haunch like he'd just ripped it from his living, screaming prey, feel the rush of blood and tendon and viscera down his throat...<br/><br/>Instead, the daintily hooked his talons into the meatiest part of the limb and carefully pulled off a long strip of meat, which he lowered his beak to and took into his mouth. He still had to throw his head back and toss it into the air like a bird of prey to work the food down his throat, but it was certainly a much less gory affair than if he had pinned the haunch down and began biting off chunks. He went about the rest of his meal in this manner, and though it took great restraint not to indulge his hunger in one ravenous feast he worked the haunch down to the bone without staining his feathers with blood.