The coyote squatted by the carcass for a moment, laying a hand on the chest. He looked up at Sascha, who was blowing raspberries- he suppressed a chuckle at the habit- and then to Alma as she spoke. I usually look to the ground for bones rather than to the trees for nests- But I suppose there are a great many nests with plenty of eggs in the forests southeast of here. He hooked the knife's ring over his forefinger and patted the corpse, thanking it silently. He slit the skin, stripping it off to make the meat readily available. From there he put his knife up and simply cut the meat with his claws, tugging at it when needed. His arms soon dripped with blood, but he had a nice pile of meat on the skin, protecting it from the earth. Do any of you eat cooked meat? I know many who have an aversion to it. He backed away from the carcass, popping a bit of meat into his mouth to chew as he sat down to attempt to clean some of the blood off of his arms with a ragged cloth.
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