Arrow Lake and he floats outside my prison window

now that thorn had managed to claw most of the (now headless) frozen moose from its icy grave, next came the truly back-breaking work -- archiving his treasured keep.

his teeth had served well to dismantle what chunks of moose hide it could, and by midday a well-worn trail had been stamped into the snow -- the repeated comings and goings of thorn in his bloody errand of stowing moose chunks in a stone-laden cache.