The driftwood is deposited near the pool - close enough to the sheltered overhang that it will add heat if needed, but far enough away that if she chooses to remain in this shape of her soul, she would not crush it - and Skellig works to build a pit in the sand, and it is when he glances up to find where she has put the meat that he notices her rolling on the rocks.

He stifles a laugh, and works to build the wood into a shape for an efficient fire. There is a knife in this bag, somewhere, but for now he simply uses a talon to slice the meat into chunks, in preparation for spearing it onto a stick for roasting.

And then she huffs and squirms with greater 'effort', and now he cannot help but allow his laughter to escape, the sound carrying easily even over the roar of the ocean beyond the shoreline.