Herbalists' Cache with my eagles t-shirt hanging from the door

Eshe’s question stumped Masquerade, in part because they’d already described what they thought she ought to do. The Caru tried to read her body language, noting the way her brow scrunched as a small shiver went down her spine. It seemed she was not keen on performing the task.

Allow me, they answered simply, thrusting out a paw to pull the carcass closer.

They turned it over and examined its belly, then realized why Eshe had hesitated at this step. The hole ideally needed to be small and neat, yet the implements at their disposal—teeth and claws—were not exactly intended for surgical precision.

I’m just going to… they decided aloud after a moment’s study, bending and nipping a chunk of loose flesh with their front teeth.

Holding fast to that pinch of skin, Masquerade brought a free paw into the picture to hold down the corpse. They then ripped forcefully, hoping to tear a small opening in the animal’s belly. It didn’t quite work like that, though. Masque did pull the flesh apart, yet the hole was crude and much larger than intended.

We should let it drain, they said as blood and viscera spilled out of the opening, and then pull out anything else that’ll fit through to make space. After that, you can try stuffing in your leaves. Sorry, it’s a bit messier than I’d hoped.