The female held Jiang by the nape until his sound foot found the basin floor.
Warm stone lay beneath a skin of water. His toes scraped it, slipped, then caught in one of the Bellmother's shallow grooves. He tried to take his own weight. His straight leg swung uselessly behind him, and cold poured through the strip the white tooth had torn from his flank.
Her beak tightened before he could sink.
She backed onto the scar lip and brought him with her. It was not gentle. Jiang's breast dragged over living stone, his injured shoulder struck the edge, and the meal inside him made another determined attempt at escape.
He kept it down. Pride could wait. Supper could not.
Once his belly rested above the waterline, the female released his nape and stepped away.
Jiang lifted his head toward her.
