Golden Fleece

He held the carcass steady where she needed, helping tug the hide free of the ram’s corpse, snipping here and there with his bracer claws as he listened to her words, nodding. Giving her one side, he began to methodically skin along the side of the animal on his side, working toward the back, bending his toes to present the smooth tops of the bear claws to form a loose “fist” and pushing that fist along the inside of the hide to peel it from the flesh as he gripped the edge in his jaws for leverage.

“We sometimes use horns to carry coals with us. Makes starting a camp fire so much easier.” He remarked between uses of his jaws as he worked around the haunches. A glance upward, following the woman’s line of sight showed him the vultures, and he grunted to himself.

It was soothing, steady work. It had a rhythm to it, and the outcome would provide a little more meat to Valhalla’s larders, and bones for the pups to play with and teeth on.

Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think