Neverwinter Forest carry me down the mountain, water,

"For them," Catamaran agreed, his tone even. But there was something in his expression that said that he, too, felt some measure of compassion for the scene. The dead buck's suffering had ended, but the living one was primed to suffer if it could not free itself.

He did not look at Rokkur as the other man arrived, too wrapped up in the National Geographic special playing out before them. With another hunter with him, he could go ahead and do something about it. Likely, the buck was hardly up for a fight by now, but Catamaran hadn't wanted to risk it.

"Probably for some time," he replied, his eyes leaving the locked antlers to scrutinize the state of the half-eaten buck. "Several days." It was a miracle the one was still alive. Whatever had eaten off the dead one had, apparently, not bothered with the living.

He looked back at Rokkur at the last question, a little taken aback. He supposed, though, that the man might not have wanted to interrupt the show, since Catamaran had been so absorbed in it.

"We should put it out of its misery," he agreed, his tail swishing at the thought of another full meal. Seastorm did not prefer large game, but he did. "Unless you want to try untangling them."

It was a jest — but a jest from Catamaran sounded like any other statement that came out of his mouth. He looked to Rokkur again anyway, just to see if he would laugh. But he didn't expect it; others rarely laughed at his jokes.