The taste of crocodile still fresh in his mouth when he emerged from trance, Oirhandir concluded that it was gamey, oily, and a little like chicken. It was fortunate that the animal was so large, as he was amazed at how little edible flesh was found on it. Much smaller, and there wouldn't have been enough to feed Gath, let alone the rest of the party!
Oirhandir checked the hide, or what part of it he was able to separate from the carcass. After enduring several complaints about how long dinner was taking, he'd finally decided to abandon the thick back plate and just skin the underside of the beast. That had been packed in as much salt as the bard could find in Rupert's provisions - not enough, he thought, but it would have to do. Satisfying himself that there was nothing more to be done with it, he re-rolled it and packed it on one of the beasts. Apparently the night had passed as uneventfully for the horses and mule as it had for the two-legged members of the party, for they were all present and bore no fresh toothmarks.
The elf left his bedroll on the top of the hill. Of all his possessions, he'd concluded that would be the only one that would be worthless after a good dunking...at least until it dried out again. Since he didn't plan on spending the night in the cramped cave, it seemed to make the most sense to leave it at camp. After convincing himself that every scrap of rope the party had was out of the animal's packs and being carried by himself or some other member of the party, Oirhandir tramped down the entrance of the tunnel, and let himself down the line into the opening.
Oirhandir checked the hide, or what part of it he was able to separate from the carcass. After enduring several complaints about how long dinner was taking, he'd finally decided to abandon the thick back plate and just skin the underside of the beast. That had been packed in as much salt as the bard could find in Rupert's provisions - not enough, he thought, but it would have to do. Satisfying himself that there was nothing more to be done with it, he re-rolled it and packed it on one of the beasts. Apparently the night had passed as uneventfully for the horses and mule as it had for the two-legged members of the party, for they were all present and bore no fresh toothmarks.
The elf left his bedroll on the top of the hill. Of all his possessions, he'd concluded that would be the only one that would be worthless after a good dunking...at least until it dried out again. Since he didn't plan on spending the night in the cramped cave, it seemed to make the most sense to leave it at camp. After convincing himself that every scrap of rope the party had was out of the animal's packs and being carried by himself or some other member of the party, Oirhandir tramped down the entrance of the tunnel, and let himself down the line into the opening.