She's a little out of practice. A hoof gets her in the ribs; Nimona hisses, spitting out the pain as if it were a mouthful of blood, before slamming her claws into the deer's belly. Her teeth follow to sink into its softest parts, tearing away a mouthful of its viscera.

She hasn't destroyed something like this in months. Not in a way that matters: a true ending, not just a three-day wait until they pop up again as good as new. It feels good.