Scars | ✔

Chapter 3

"Alright. You say yer so good at aimin, so shoot that critter right there." Timothy spoke quietly to Clem as Marshall stood close behind.

"Okay." Clem whispered in response, pointing the loaded gun at the red fox. Clem took a deep breathe, holding it as Marshall had taught her the night prior, and shot.

With a loud bang, the fox's lifeless body fell to the floor. Clem watched as the dark red liquid oozed from it's head, leaving it laying in a puddle of it's own blood.

Clem shakily lowered the gun as Timothy cheered.

"Nice goin, girl!" Timothy yelled, going towards the dead fox. It picked it up by the tail, hanging it upside down.

"What do ya say we take this back home to ma? I could teach ye a thing or two of skinnin' it and all."

"I.. okay." Timothy forced a smile to the girl, walking past her and Marshall. His heavy boots clanked against the dirt ground as he headed back towards the log cabin.

"Thanks again, Marshall." Clem whispered to her friend, earning herself a warm smile and a thumbs up. They both left for Timothy.

. . .

Clem watched in horror as Timothy hung the limp fox up by it's hind legs. Marshall just sighed. It was nothing new to him. He's seen his dad do this all the time.

"Alright. We're gonna skin this here fox." Timothy said as he made sure it was steady in place.

"What does.. does it mean to skin a fox?" Clem asked nervously. Timothy turned towards her and, for the first time since this psycho family has had her, gave her a genuine smile.

"Well, we're gonna eat the meat and hang the fur."

"Where at?"

"In that shed ol' there." Timothy said with a point. Clem glanced behind her, and back towards Timothy.

"Mind going an gettin a stool from ma, Marsh?" Timothy asked, turning to face his son. Marshall shook his head.

"No pa. I'm goin." Marshall told him. He smiled at Clem as he left.

"You're gonna stand on the stool, with you bein so small an all."

"Yes sir."

"Please, call me pa."

"...Okay.."

Soon, Marshall was back with the stool, carrying it with ease.

"Here ya are, pa." Marshall said, sitting the stool slightly under the fox. Timothy slightly shifted as he picked Clem up and stood her on the stool.

"Always start at the feet. Easiest place to start." Timothy told Clem as she held the sharp knife.

"Ye got this, Clem. I've gotta go check on Ma and the others." Marshall said in a sigh as Clem looked down at him for reassurance. Clem frowned at Marshall as he walked into the cabin.

"Stay focused, girl. So, all ye gotta do is dig yer knife in its paw pads. Start peeling it off from the paw pads to the back of the fox's front legs. When ye reach the arm pit region, that's where ya stop," Timothy explained to Clem, Clem only stood there, frozen in confusion and not knowing what her next move was to do. "Ye listen good girly. Anyway, next, ye pull out the fox's skin and detach the fur from the bones." As Timothy finished, Clem took a deep breathe.

"Take it easy. This takes time, girly." Timothy said as Clem slowly cut through the dead animal's skin. Little by little, Clem cut the animal's skin from the body, finally finishing off the legs.