Skinning the rabbits was a familiar and easy task. Within no time he had finished one and moved on to the next. As soon as he finished the second one, he placed the carcass next to the other beside the small blaze and stood. He drifted toward the edge of the stream to wash both the pelts and himself clean. The male knelt down in the soft soil by the waterside and first rinsed his dagger clean before slipping it into the sheath at his side. For the next few minutes, Dresden let his mind wander as his hands moved through the cool, clear water.
With that task done, the warrior returned to the fire and set the cleaned pelts beside the fire to dry quickly. Icy blue eyes then turned to the skinned hares and he considered them for a moment. He would cook them, he decided. He approached Stranger so that he could rummage through the saddlebags in search of his meager collection of spices. As rare as it was for him to use them, his journey had been a long one thus far and the majority of his collection had already been put to use. Since he would cook the hares now, he saw no reason why he shouldn’t put them to use. He pulled out the small satchel of spices then turned to give the grazing stallion a pat on the neck. The horse ignored him, as usual. Dresden snorted and turned to return once more to his fire, but halted quickly. He thought he’d heard something out in the forest. Ears perked up and he listened intently, pale blue eyes searching around him. He eyed the stream for a moment, but dismissed it quickly as background noise; no, he was almost certain he heard the distinctive sound of footsteps in the forest. As he tried to pinpoint the noise, his hand drifted to the hilt of one of his daggers, reassured by its touch.