Lion Head Mesa the serpent goddess

The serpent wolf watched with covetous eyes, drawing his tongue over his lips, as the red-capped seer collected her gift. He made no sound and moved naught but his head to observe their surroundings, making sure they remained alone.

Wait.

He obeyed, crouching down to lie in a sphinx position until she returned.

Leshen perked up when she did, toting a tear of spiced meat which she set before him. He hesitated, this time making sure that it belonged to him before advancing on the potent offering. This one smelled much like the last one, apart from a whiff of something sweeter, a promise of something torturously delicious.

He inhaled the appetizing scents, none the wiser, and then scarfed it down hungrily.

Once every bit of dried remnant was licked from the snow and heartily swallowed, he looked to the witch with a slight wag of his tail and a curious tilt of his skull. His expression said he was eager for more; more cured food or another task, it did not matter.