Qeya River because we are animals,

Imaq nodded in agreement, feeling a measure of approval warm the cavity beneath her breastbone -- it was a task all women should know, the tribal cur believed, how to cure meats and furs for their family and clan. She allowed a small smile of kinship to flit in the scarlet-kissed corvid's direction -- tailless stump giving a small wiggle of a wag even if it had no appendage to express emotion with. 

"Jah," she agreed lightly, thinking of how Iana had also expressed an interest in the ways of her homeland. "Imaq can teach Tzila," she promised, thick accent stumbling over the woman's name somewhat clumsily -- the exotic pronunciation most foreign to the golden northron. 

Differing naturally to the shadow's more dominant nature and take-charge attitude, Imaq gave only a small dip of her freckled crown before she went to work chewing the meat into smaller hunks and pieces that could more easily be transported. When she had managed to get a good grip on the ewe's butchered shoulder, she lifted the heavy cut of meat as best she could -- knowing full well that the muscles of their jaws, neck, and shoulders would likely hurt fiercely once the sheep had been completely moved back to Duskfire. 

Still it was worth it, Imaq determined as she set off with the first piece of meat to be stored -- giving Tzila a little nod of departure as she trotted away towards the glacier. This sheep would help fill their caches and feed their people for some time.