She ate like a queen eats. Sitting on the spine of the dead dinosaur, legs crossed, tearing strips of roasted meat from the bone with her teeth.
The fire crackled below her, built from splintered wood and fed by the small monsters who had learned, over many seasons, that keeping her fire fed meant eating her leftovers. The gray beast's flesh was gamey and rich, and she chewed with her eyes closed, feeling the wild qi in the meat settle into her meridians like warm rain into soil.
"Mm." She swallowed. Ripped another strip. "Good year. Big prey. Fat prey."
When her belly was round, she carved the rest. Her stone knife sang through hide and sinew, and she hauled a hindquarter over one shoulder, a rack of ribs under her other arm, blood dripping down her sun-darkened skin in slow lines that the firelight painted gold.
