Sam didn't prance; he didn't yip. He stood quietly just a few feet away from the large black wolf. His nose lifted to sniff at the air, ears perked for any sound. It smelled like meat, fresh meat. Freshly slaughtered meat.
Nothing else seemed to be there, but that didn't mean that was the case. They were kept here for a reason, they and people like them. He finally looked over to Evan and gave a bit of a head tilt, a question. Were they going to try it, or were they going to wait? Were they going to look a little further?
There were ways to the food: cross the clearing, move round to the back or the sides. It didn't look like a trap, but that made Sam feel a little leery of it all. This was just a little too easy.