What Alastor said might be true. The Cleanse was a rough time for everyone down here in Hell. However Angel was having doubts that fatigue was all the that was going on. The way the deer was moving since he walked through those doors felt stilted. Almost how a wounded animal tried to conceal their pain from predators so they wouldn't get picked off. Angel himself had done similar things in the past when his pimp roughed him up before going on stage or when he tried to hide it from the residence of the hotel.

Angel cocked a brow at him. "As someone who makes a livin' off faking it, you got to try harder than that to fool me." His eyes traveled down the deer's frame when something suddenly caught his eyes. He has ogled the demon countless times to notice there was something wrong about his jacket. His eyes shot open, reaching out a hand towards the radio host. "Wait Al.. Is that... blood?"

Insert silent panic.