Galen slowly flew back to the ship, bow in one hand, and another one of the pale orange incendiary animals in the other.
A thin trail of smoke rose from several smoldering feathers on his right wing, and his face had streaks of ash in several places.
The creature, which Galen had named an incinerator, had been sliced along its underbelly, and the leathery fuel sack was removed and held by the same hand as the rest of the animal.
He landed in the sand next to Tybalt with a considerable impact, and threw the smoking, yet still edible, corpse into his arms with some force.
"You have NO idea what these little bastards are capable of."
Galen flew to the top of the ship's overturned deck, sitting to catch his breath and unstring his bow.
A faint pillar of smoke was rising in the distant regions of the forest.