Startled, Grüg crushed the fine lure between his fingertips. His thick eyebrows knitted, he looked hard at the stranger. The camp smoke overtook his sensitive nose. No telling what sort of beast this interloper was, nor if his entire clan were waiting in the undergrowth, waiting to spring. 

He shrugged at Vaunk's question, gesturing at the pile of viscera, bones, and scales. 

"Plenty in the lake."

Grüg eyed the proffered stone.

"Keep your rock. I'm Grüg. Grolarkin."