Khan had come over to the slain deer, surveying the carcasses. The men weren't trained, to be sure, but they had given a good account of themselves. Picking out a young buck, he raised his voice. "Does any man lay claim to this?" When nobody answered, he began skinning the animal. It had been awhile, and his knife skills were not what they used to be.
It took awhile, but he eventually skinned it from head to hoof. He deposited that in a leather bag on Bran's back, and cut several steaks and a haunch, which he hung from his belt with some fishing hooks one of the men lent him. He dusted his hands, then went to the stream, washing the gore from under his finger nails and his torso. He cut the antlers off, and tucked them in the bag as well. Shame he could not take the head. Well, he hadn't killed it, so he figured he and the universe were even.
He stood, and put his helmet back on. "Well, I suppose ogres are the next order of business, then?"
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