"The cave can't hold it all; the space is too narrow. Find a place where the sun doesn't hit to dry it temporarily." He followed Owen out to see the slabs of smoked meat steaming with heat, then spoke. The smell of heated animal fat rose strongly in the air, mingling with the scent of dry earth to create an indescribably stifling odor.
Owen observed the surrounding terrain, squinting to assess the direction of the sunlight, and found it to be true: "Move it to that protruding rocky area over there. That place has a large boulder for shelter; the vertical cliff face creates a natural shade, just enough to block some sun, and the wind is also breezier, so it won't spoil the meat."
The two began working tirelessly again, transporting each heavy slab of meat under the scorching sun. Sweat soaked the back of Rowan's shirt, streaming down to his waist.
