Tegwaret lifted his arm up over Leland's shoulder and hoisted himself up. His body was still a little limp, all the muscles of regurgitation settling slowly. "It's all ruined. I bet I can salvage the furs, but now I stink, and my hut is tainted, and why? Laziness and greed." His words had a drunken tone to them, not that he had been drinking, but from the sore throat muscles and rude awakening.
The distance between them and the hut grew, and the scent lessened severely. Finally, Teg needed to let his body fall to the ground, swinging around to sit. He stared back towards the hut, almost able to see the dark and bloody cloud of filth, although more in his mind than anything. "I hope I can salvage them..." He looked up to Leland. "I was tired. I had been hunting all day, I should have stopped early, but I found a whole field that was rife with fox tracks. I couldn't. When I got back home, I thought it would be alright overnight. But...no, not in the same room. I can't house corpses. I was going to trade them in in the morning and I thought the cold night would be alright to keep things fresh enough to gut in the morning." He paused for a moment, just the word gut being enough to tickle his throat again. Swallowing it down, he continued. "I must produce too much heat."