Morningside Cuesta tamon

Heda did not answer — but she did not have to. Her silence communicated well what she felt; Anselm was not so kind as to reassure her that slipping happened to everyone. Instead, he set to the grueling task of bringing each meat chunk Heda disunited from the carcass uphill. 

Ravens collected along the lip of the cliff side. Anselm gave them a disapproving stare, challenging their bold approach with a snap of his teeth. Each time he did so they cleverly leapt out of reach, only to flutter down in a new spot several yards away. 

The stack grew higher, the raven count grew bigger, and Anselm grew more tired as he worked in grim quiet along the woman who deserved so much more than his taciturn silence.