The Dragon Keeper
Skymaw would be pleased with her. But only if she got the meat back to the dragon; there was no bringing Skymaw to this kill. The thick forest and undergrowth were impenetrable for a creature the size of a dragon. The only way to get the meat back to her would be for Thymara to pack it out. She sized up the animal. She could probably drag a front leg and shoulder back on her own. Then she’d find Tats and they’d come back to cut up the rest and drag it back. Tats could take a share for Fente, and they’d have meat to share at the campfire with the other keepers. She felt a surge of pride at that thought. She doubted that anyone else would have fared as well at the hunt as she had.
The marsh elk’s hide was thicker than she had bargained on. Her knife seemed small in comparison to the task and it dulled fast. Twice she had to stop and sharpen it, and each time she thought of the daylight passing. It was already dim back here in the rain forest. If she didn’t get back and reclaim the rest of the meat before dark, it would be hopeless trying to find it at night. And by morning, scavengers would have reduced it to bones. Ants and buzzing insects were already trooping to the feast.
When she had finally sliced all around the tough hide and cut the meat down to the bone, she had to use every bit of strength she had to wrestle her blade into the animal’s shoulder socket to get the front leg free of the carcass. It finally came loose with a suddenness that made her sit down flat on the ground, the leg half on top of her. She wiped her knife on her trouser leg and sheathed it, and then wiped her hands. She pushed sweaty hair back from her scaled brow. The scales felt tighter and more complete; they were growing. In a few more months, she might not even sweat there anymore. For a moment, she wondered what she looked like, and then pushed that concern aside. There was nothing she could do to change how she looked; best not to think about it.
“Thank you,” she replied uncertainly. Was he complimenting her or suggesting this was a fluke? A bit testily, she added, “A bow doesn’t know who pulls the string. Anyone who is strong enough and can shoot straight can bring down an animal.”
“We have a few hours of light left,” Thymara replied. “And I’d best use them or I’ll lose the meat. I’ll see you back at the camp, Greft.” She knelt and put a hasty wrap of line around the elk’s leg just above the hoof, and then knotted it in a loop big enough to fit over her shoulder. All the while she felt him standing there, watching her silently. She thrust her arm through the loop of rope as she stood. “See you back at camp,” she repeated.
But she hadn’t gone two strides before he asked, “You’re just leaving all the rest of the meat?”
She tried to let none of that show in her eyes or sound in her voice as she said casually, “Tats and I will be coming back for it.”