The bones were left in a delicate pile; the bottom of the pile had the corpse's largest bones, while the top of the pile spread his musty, partially skin-clad hands resting upon a ribcage, still partially covered with aged lion fur and rotting under flesh, covering only the sternum and chest pec sections of the chest. To the right of the bones laid a uniform of sorts: black and white striped clown bottoms, vastly exaggerated in size: black shoes with white  heels, also grandly over-sized: shagged, black silk gloves, with the finger areas partially torn around the middle of each finger as if overly used: and finally, a black bowtie that had been, perhaps, the only reasonable item of the lot, in terms of size and condition.
Only one key part had been separated from the rest, and for good reason. The skull of the form had been a most curious appearance, starting from the lengthy spider-web covered mane, to the awkwardly remaining lips of the form, which had been exaggerated to the point that the clothing combined seemed normal. They were black, thick with a cartoonish gloss, and they stretched back nearly to  the levels of the skull's eye-sockets. In fact, the lips were limp along the ground itself, yet the skull's teeth were unable to be seen despite all of it's other features being in clear sight.

The skull on the stand is completely still as the Prawk gorges itself on loose scraps, waiting for the creature to tire out. Once the tiny form has had it's fill, it's eyes attract something unusually shiny, grabbing it's full attention. Within the now opened lips of the skull, a shard of silver wriggles about, as if dancing to mock the prawk. This allure works every time, as even an overly stuffed life form will find room for something that is a rare treat to get ahold of. Today's prawk had boldly made it's way over to the skill, hypnotized by the wiggling metal shape, nearly stepping into the teeth of the parted lips, until a loud, howling rush of air forces the front flaps of the tent open, sending the tiny form fleeing for dear life. The wiggling tongue pauses briefly before falling flat, nearly cracking one of the jagged teeth upon impact. It's at this moment, the form of the Lion's corpse animates itself back into existence; and while most people insist a body moves only out of the use of muscles, the lion's bones and clothing were placed into position out of sheer will...and mild annoyance of a lost meal. Fortunate for this undead entertainer, a more delightful meal had been delivered to him; a man whose immoral actions towards his townfolk and greed had warranted some of the worst punishment to be inflicted. None could be better for the job than a figure of the undead; specifically, Pierrot, one of the few remaining forces of death that would disturb the balance of humanity out of sheer show play.

Pierrot had just taken his first few steps to help his rickety bones settle in place, when from above, screaming had been heart. At glance, it was hard to tell what hand was holding the man in air just above the opening; what was noticeable, however, had been the man was squirming for dear life, only to be dropped from more than fifty feet in the air, landing upon his lower back, instantly shattering his spine. Pierrot froze for a good twenty seconds, taking in the unsavory screams of agony, before his cartoonish lips of horror grinned in delight. It's in such moments that the form takes a drastic change of color, pending on the moods of the lifeless lion. For every section that had been black in his form, including the depths of his chest revealed behind bones and the black fog of his eye sockets, adapts to a new shade. If Pierrot is amused or happy, the black is replaced with a lively yellow, which one would see as reasonable, until the view of his teeth matching reminds the mind quickly that it's likely a horrid event going on to make the lion entertained. A more depressing or disappointing moment would lavish the form with a sad blue, along with dropping lips nearly reaching his rib cage. Most horrifying, however, had been the firey red of anger or annoyance, of which view survive after experiencing, for death and slaughter tend to follow after.