I ease up onto my tiptoes, peering over the cleft of her wing to the small hollow it’s shielding. Not sharp and jagged like bits are still missing, but a smoothed ingress close to the tip of the beast’s wide nose, as though Slátra gave her final breath cradling . . . something bundled within the silken tendrils of her once soft tail. Shielded by her cupped claw.
