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... .

It began to struggle, flapping weakly, but Kaya’s grip didn’t budge. She had wrestled with worse today, and a trembling puff of feathers wasn’t about to win.

She glanced around. A tiny vine dangled lazily from a stunted tree nearby — too flimsy.

Then her eyes caught something else: the sparrow’s tiny, sharp talons. "Tch," she muttered. "Those little claws are definitely flight-risk material."

Her gaze shifted to a patch of grass. She yanked a long, sturdy blade ...

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There is an ugly beast that violates women in prison.

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I can’t speak, and I don’t understand a word they say.

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