One Chaot stood to the side. It busied itself in scratching and nibbling its left arm; its gaze stared off into nothingness. It must have been abrading its flesh for a long time, for the Chaot’s fingernails were worn down from the mindless act. On the ring finger the nail hung loose, connected only by a cord of flesh that kept it from falling completely off. The skin where it scratched was ragged and raw. Blood dried in the crevices, gangrenous spores dotted the dermis. In some areas the bone was visible due to the obsessive-compulsive chafing.
