Where one might see a true hound, flanks dark and teeth sharp another might spy a hunting-hawk, circling overhead. Whatever their shape, it comes from the beholder, not the beholden beast itself. These things are Death's harrowing-crew, the spirits bound to Death to stalk the after-lands looking for ghosts who might have gotten away from the great queue that leads to the Gates and to their final rest. Those lost or escaped souls find themselves stalked by the beasts and, if caught, either carried back or torn apart, as depends the ferocity of the creatures. Instinct: to hunt and capture

• scent out an escaped soul