el tigre

Hefting it over the branch was a job and a half. In the end, Mortis ended up scrambling up the tree. Showing off a little with how his cat like claws gave him grip, and his wings granted him balance. He crawled a little ways onto the branch and Mags tossed the skin up to him. He grabbed it and feed it across until it was draped evenly along the branch.

He leaped back down wings flaring, but too heavy to offer him much of a break from the heavy landing. He shook it off, and trotted back to the meat with Mags. "I really like snow. The first time I saw it, me and Asla had a snow fight" he explained cheerfully. "Your family now, so I'm glad you dont want to leave" he said it without hesitation, unabashed, naked truth. Moving on without realizing how much it meant to his Uncle.
"Mags, I think the coyote is back" he said standing up beside the meat. This time, the coyote had friends. Hungry friends.