By the third week, Jiang knew the armada anchor was about to pull before shell dust fell.
It had tested both worlds through the days between. Sometimes the black leader tightened long enough to wake him and went slack before Aylin reached the shell horn. Sometimes Red Aeries answered with Hest's bar and the injured male remained silent until the female called twice.
Jiang fasted through every pull. More old coat came away when he slept. Dark contour feathers opened in uneven fields along his neck, back, shoulders, and flanks, while the skin beneath them consumed the body reserves Aylin could no longer replace with fish.
Each morning she lifted the warming cloth and looked through the remaining seams. Dry fabric tucked beneath Jiang's belly was still visible from above. Around the Wake Scar, sparse barbs failed to hide pale skin even when he pressed them flat.
No water was needed to prove the coat remained open.
