"No," Emery grins, and between one step and the next, he's suddenly taller, broader, and... furrier. Still built on bipedal lines, but definitely wolf-like now, with a short muzzle and clawed hands instead of forepaws.

He lifts the deer off his shoulders and digs the claws of one hand into the carcass, raking at it to cut through skin and muscle.

His voice is a growly monotone in this form, as he says, "Grab on," and nods to the hoofed end of the leg. "When you have a good grip... I'll pull."

That should do it, for splitting the leg off.