Moonspear prey to none

Still feeling dazed, Kindle tried to piece together what had happened. He must have hit his head — he'd felt this sort of thing before, after all — but he couldn't for the life of him remember how, or how Kira and Treepie were involved.

He was a little frightened, and terribly, terribly guilty.

"I'm sorry, Pie," he said, scraping dirt and snow over his vomit to cover up the smell. His attention was on her, though. On her assorted parts, looking for damage. But his eyes jumped to her face when she suggested she might want to be mutilated, aghast at the idea of Treepie harming herself in this way.

Kira reappeared, then, and Kindle felt a throb in his head at the sight of her.

"I don't, either," he said, still unusually distressed. "Pie — are you sure there's no tearing? Maybe we ought to take a look," he told them both, his concern evident. He could only smell his vomit, and her words had worried him greatly. He didn't know how he'd live with himself if he harmed her. Especially since he didn't know quite how.