They stood around the corpse, just looking at it for a few seconds, then Samara stepped forward.
"My father's a butcher," she said, already rolling up her sleeves. "Follow my lead. If you ruin the hide, you're carrying twice the weight for half the profit."
Gillard blinked, surprised. "Have you done this a lot?"
"I have, since I was five."
She knelt by the boar's flank and drew her blade. When she started cutting the boar, it was apparent that she was skilled; her cuts were clean and efficient. She guided the others where to slice, where and when to pull or peel the hide back, where to separate the tendons from the bones.
Teclos crouched beside her, assisting where he could. He had helped his father with smaller game before—rabbits, deer, even a young wolf once—but nothing on this scale. Still, he understood the basic structure of the beast and how to cut the meat the easiest.
