Orro stalked out of the kitchen and grabbed the head with his long claws. “Please don’t tell me you’re going to cook that,” I said. “Of course I’m going to cook it.” He waved the head around for emphasis. “Might I remind you that you’re on a limited budget?” “What if it’s poisonous?” Jack asked. “Preposterous!” Orro growled. “This is clearly a Morean water drake.” He tucked the severed head under his arm and walked into the kitchen, dragging the neck across the floor behind him.
the five feet of neck ... oO ... well the neck & cheeks are supposed to be the tenderest ... not that I will every try that.
