She climbed a live oak and wove some of its branches, still attached to the tree, into a nest. She climbed into it and lay in a crouch. The devil leg wrapped itself around her and wound its tip around the tree’s trunk. Dimly, Yenderil sensed the fish devil noticing that the swish and switch of the night breeze were much like floating in its home’s deep water. The creaking of frogs and crickets were like the underwater sounds, though much louder. All Yenderil’s eyes closed, and she slept.
