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He improvised a spit a straight limb that would make a good spear, shaped to a point and fire-hardened and put a haunch on to roast for lunch. Thanking whatever Traiti metallurgist had developed a knife alloy that held an edge under steady abuse, he set about making moccasins from the tough noxi skin, using his own foot as the pattern, gut for thread, and his knife as an awl.
The two carcasses a derybach had reached before he did meant that at least one well-fed derybach should have no interest in human prey today, and one noxi was enough to supply him with moccasins and meat. Satisfied, Tarlac salvaged his bark strips and returned to camp.
Leftover roots made an adequate breakfast, and when he checked his snares he decided that either he was extremely lucky or noxi were even stupider than Hovan had told him. Three of his snares held prey, the beagle-eared Homeworld version of rabbits, and one was still reasonably intact.
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