I've got a hatchet.

No, more like teeth and claw marks.

To make a long story short, we buried the hatchet.

I suggest you find a way to bury the hatchet

Disappointed he didn't fight fang and claw for you?

life is not just red in tooth and claw.

That's the animal that thumb claw came from Suchomimus.

He'd save anything with a beak or a claw.

Yet this claw could only belong to an arboreal creature...

Go stand by the manual release for the landing claw.

The top of his head is still showing. Claw on it!

The owners brought in a hatchet man to fire all the union sympathizers.

I check the list rubber tubing, gas, saw, gloves, cuffs, razor wire, hatchet,

Isn't it about time you guys buried the hatchet and let bygones be bygones?

Whaddya say we bury that little hatchet VGHS style with a little friendly competish?

This is a thumb claw. There it was, moments after it was discovered.

One day, Caine tells me, Dad, I want to buy a claw machine.

It's called claw hammer style, that he had learned from his mother and grandmother.

It has no big claw on its hind foot. It doesn't look like a Velociraptor.

Couldn't some of them still be in the graveyard right now, trying to claw their way out?

And he slashes at you with this, a 6inch retractable claw, like a razor, on the middle toe.

The old man reached out his knobbly claw for the woman's hand, and found it, and left me alone.

At one time we were enemies, but we've buried the hatchet and we are now on friendly terms with each other.

Throwing aside the counterpane, there lay the tomahawk sleeping by the savage's side, as if it were a hatchet faced baby.

You can see this shrimp is harassing this poor little guy here, and he'll bat it away with his claw.

But there is a ship out there. Vulture's Claw Looks like a Trandoshan scavenger, probably combing the battlefield for salvage.

After the hatchet job my boss did on my proposal, I'm not sure how long I want to keep on working here.

And then I said, What the heck? He figured out how to make a claw machine with a string and a hook.

After countless burials of the hatchet, we always dig it up again. There doesn't seem to be any sign of an ever lasting peace.

Here's a crab with his claw right at the end of that tube worm, waiting for that worm to stick his head out.

All I could think of was the picture of Aunt Agatha drinking all this in and reaching out to sharpen the hatchet against my return.

And this is his chair with claw, and the poor little chair has lost its ball and it's trying to get it back before anybody notices.

And right on top of the nearest coconut tree, with a hatchet in one hand and a cell phone in the other, was a local toddy tapper, who proceeded to bring down the coconuts for us to drink.

lobster claw boys and bearded ladies, oddities juggling depression and loneliness, playing solitaire, spin the bottle, trying to kiss the wounded parts of ourselves and heal, but at night, while the others slept, we kept walking the tightrope.

We made unlawful for the Jews all the claw footed animals, fat of the cows, sheep and goats except what is found on their backs, intestines and whatever is mixed with their bones. Thus, did We recompense them for their rebellion and We are certainly truthful.