DM: You come into the stables, and see that, indeed, your horse lies there, beheaded, her limbs cut off. By the amount and state if the blood you can be sure that her legs were cut off when she was still alive, and only then she was beheaded.
Bard: I hate when people touch my stuff… [to the DM] Long ago?
DM: No, about half an hour aho. She’s still warm.
Bard: *sigh* Guys! We got ourselves nine hundred pounds of fresh meat!
DM: Wait, you are not even a little bit…
Bard: No.