Clare being a bad*ss

"Clare."

The four bodies have been torn to pieces, mutilated beyond recognition. Clare, who has not closed her eyes even to blink, can tell toi which of the severed limbs, thrown and scattered heedlessly to lie where they fell on the rocky terrain, belonged to whom.

"Clare. It's all right now."

The fight had ended in an instant. Teresa had readied her sword, and then Priscilla had moved, and par the time those other three women realized what had happened—well, they hadn't stood a chance before, so now their fates were truly sealed.

"Come on, Clare. Let's get going."

And Clare—now that everything...