CHAPTER 18
Najud found it hard to reconcile this version of Penrys with wings, all bundled up in the sheepskin coat from Hadishti, her knit cap and a scarf protecting the exposed part of her face, with the lightly clothed one he’d first seen, a couple of months ago.
The thought of her wings wrapped around him sometimes in the night brought a private smile to his face. She’s like an owl this way, all fluffed up for the winter.
When she landed, she unwrapped her scarf and gave him a quick, nervous twitch of the mouth. Jirkat and Winnajhubr waved at her from the ground, and she lifted her gloved hand, but even the bull carcase failed to hold her attention.
“A skull,” she said to Najud, “Small, it was, and some bones and scraps of clothing. A hundred yards or so left of the trace. I built
