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Chapter 83: Blood in the Ravine
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Chapter 85: The Sundering Blade
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... he mud of the ravine, my face pressed against the cold, iron-scented dirt. The silence after the Skitter-Wight attack was heavy, broken only by the wet drip-drip of purple ichor falling from the leaves above.
My chest felt like it had been stomped on by a horse. The creatures were dead, but they had left their mark—my skin was a map of shallow tears and deep, throbbing punctures.
My left leg was burning where one of them had taken a chunk out of me, and my shoulder felt like it h ...
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