The dragons are beautiful even when they’re dead, their serpentine bodies stacked up and up, their metallic blue scales glinting under the sun. This close, Mina can see how blank their eyes are through those thin layers of membrane. How empty. Dragons are not violent by nature, but they hunt what hunts them.

Twenty-eight years of casting away / Until the earth beneath crumbled

his grungy skin nonetheless sequined with embedded nanocircuit sensors