It was different, looking at them as though they were “people.” As animals, they had been interesting; as “people,” horrible. Their eyes, which were neutral little objects before, now seemed to watch them with active malevolence.
“They’re making noises,” said Slim, in a whisper which was barely audible.
“I guess they’re talking or something,” said Red. Funny that those noises which they had heard before had not had significance earlier. He was making no move toward them. Neither was Slim.
The canvas was off but they were just watching. The ground meat, Slim noticed, hadn’t been touched.
Slim said, “Aren’t you going to do something?”
“Aren’t you?”
“You found them.”
“It’s your turn, now.”