good hunting,rumbled the chieftain, muzzle lowered to taste the bloody snow, to brush the warm body of the fallen calf.
the skin and its dewclaws belong to you. i will show you how to wear the second,and red feather in his nape caught the breeze, a proud banner to proclaim his daughter's success.
red now was hers to take first, and then the caribou man would move to help her in the removal of said pelt. the slate eye was plainly pleased through cen's attentive silence, and he felt as though he had regained some portion of those lost months through their hunt alone.
his heart hoped for many more to come.