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evading the sweep of Cresseida’s nails, and a
countermove had Manon driving her elbow
into the Blueblood Matron’s nose.
Cresseida stumbled. The Yellowlegs
Matron and her grandmother attacked again.
So fast. Their three assaults had happened
in the span of a few blinks.
Manon kept her feet under her. Saw where
one Matron moved and the other left a
dangerous gap exposed.
She was not a broken-spirited Wing Leader
unsure of her place in the world.
She was not ashamed of the truth before
her.
She was not afraid.
Manon’s grandmother led the attack, her
maneuvers the deadliest.
It was from her that the first slice of pain
appeared. A rip of iron nails through Manon’s
shoulder.