“It’s an ancient hunting technique used by the Inuit,” the taller man said while standing, gazing down at the other man, “It’s ingenious really.”

The short man sat crossed legged. The sound of liquid splashing on the snow next to him was so rhythmic the standing man could have set his watch by it. He stared straight ahead, his mouth agape, watching the animal excitedly tease its trophy.

“You take a bloody knife, just like the one I stabbed you with incidentally, stick it in the ground and wait. Especially good when you live in the tundra and have very little wildlife to kill. A wolf will smell the blood, go to investigate and start licking the knife. You see, when they taste their own blood, they get so excited and continue licking, wanting more of that tasty coppery treat. Then, before they are aware of it, the animal weakens and lies down, falls asleep and never wakes up. So, do you think you’ll bleed out before your dog?” the taller man said, laughing.