It turned back to the sword hilt, dabbing at it gently while the monster on the floor moaned. Then the female raised its claw toward Hild. She flinched. In an instant, she looked around, taking in her position. The fire was behind her, too high to jump. On one side, an earth wall. The wounded monster lay on the ground in front of her; the other crouched beside her. There was no escape. The claw came closer. Hild held her breath. It stopped so near her face it was almost touching her. Hild stared, mesmerized, at the dirt-encrusted talon. Then it moved back, away from her face. She remembered to breathe, gulping in air. The claw dropped to the sword hilt. As it did, the monster on the ground roared, twisting its body in agony. Hild hunched into the wall, screwing her eyes shut in horror. The sound died away. Cautiously, she cracked open one eye, then the other. The female creature was holding its claw near the sword hilt, looking at it—and now looking at Hild. Did it know what she had done?
