Sheepeater Cliff soronúmë

The younger of her followers had fallen alongside her step; blushed nose quivering at the scent of another of her ashen ones; and though the stricken's gaze remained , she mused listlessly to he with her:  "How many would you say we might down?"  Crazed, she must be crazed; had the earthshatter not robbed them of the sinew and strength within each, perhaps their chances would be more sure; perhaps she might not even turn to these far-seeing fliers at all—
—but Andraste hungered, and now meant to hunt, and the words were the only barricade to the slavering at scarred chops. ... As masters of the heavens  (and of wool, perhaps)  why would they ever look above their own feathered-brains?

Still ... that was just a theory.

All the same, halfsight found the jadeglim of Dagwood's; wondering if he might like to test such with her.