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Feeding Strays

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There's a Skelterbeast mostly living in the woods near Clementine's house. It's shaped like it used to be a deer, the same height and color and general shape, but the left side of its body is a gorey mess with bloody ribs visible where huge chunks of skin and flesh are missing. 

It tends to show itself in the pre-dawn as Clem is getting home from work, stopping by to take a drink from the pail of water she leaves on the small front porch and to pester her for breakfast. She finds the sight of the apparent wound a bit unnerving, but the beast is always gentle with her when it eats fruit slices or fresh dandelions or lunch meat from her open hand before it flicks its ears and meanders back into the trees. 

"You know, you shouldn't touch strange animals," Val tells her the first time she observes this ritual. "Especially not this far from the city. You have no idea what kind of curses that thing could be carrying." 

"You're probably right," Clem sighs. "But how could I turn such a sweet thing away hungry?" 

"Spirits don't need food," Val responds. She eyes the thing warily, gaze tracing over the slight glowing aura of the exposed bones, the too-sharp teeth, the hauntingly dead eyes. 

"Then maybe this little Skelter stray is here because it enjoys my company," Clem says, patting it affectionately on its scar-crossed snout, "same as you."