As the massive furry body crumples to the ground, Charles finds his feet again, and pulls back the blade. It was quicker this way. No need for it to suffer.

"Mm." He lifts his gaze to Pratt before nodding quietly, and shifting to take a better look at the animal now that it was lying still. "Probably more of them. Don't want to kill more than we have to. Could be all there is," he murmurs, a gloved hand reaching out to pat the creature's meaty shoulder.

"Claws will probably be useful. Meat, too. If it's fit for humans. Bone for tools, if things need repairing. There's a lot to use, here."