Overture Downs more than could be chewed

What a fucking moron.

Watcher's face morphed from determined to blank to downright stupefied as the meaning behind his words filtered through her brain. Not only did this young buck value that huge chunk of bone and antlers more than his life, but he couldn't recognize help when it smacked him in the face. Which it nearly did when her jaws slackened and the stick wheeled abruptly between her teeth.

She spat it into the snow and lashed her tail once for emphasis. You will starve and die in that hole with that skull, she proclaimed, unless you grab and let me help you. She hoisted the stick and shoved it in his direction once more.

Watcher didn't think there was any way to get both him and the skull out. That thing was a lost cause, impressive as it was. Maybe he had better ideas and could retrieve it, but it was the least of her concerns. Besides, if she wanted his prize, she was confident she could wreck him. She had no proof, but her youth and upbringing served to make her feel invincible indeed.