While his food cooked over the open flame, Atchmon busied himself with the wolfs pelt by preparing it for use as a furry tunic. It took several hours between washing the fur so it wouldn't smell like death, and scraping off the thin membrane of flesh, before the hunter was satisfied with his work. It wasn't anywhere near the quality he learned to achieve, but night was rapidly falling upon him and he needed more than a small fire to keep himself warm through the night. 