She’d watched frogs die before, skewered on sticks and spitted over a fire to swelter, crackle, and pop. It wasn’t all that exhilarating, but had it’s benefits. For one, if you knew your frogs and cleaned them first, the legs turned out delicious.
It had been a long time since she’d done that — the keepers didn’t let you catch frogs or make fires here in the ward.
She might have been excited to have the chance again, except this wasn’t a frog and she wasn’t sure if she should start with the keeper’s legs, arms, or head.