Dawn arrived as a lighter shade of gray and a new angle to the wind.
Elias surfaced from sleep with the hiss of pain you get when your body has run out of numb. He tried to sit up. Sera stopped him with two fingers and a look. He obeyed.
Zubair handed over two pills he hadn't admitted to having. "Half," he instructed. "You keep the rest for tonight."
Elias didn't argue. "Arm?"
"Attached," Sera answered. "Ugly. You'll keep it if you don't get clever."
"Define clever," he croaked.
"Moving it," Alexei chimed in, wandering by with a roll of webbing. "Using it. Thinking about using it. Naming it."
"That's not how arms work," Elias tried, but he didn't push it.
They measured damage.
Door: tolerable. Hinge: annoyed. Ammo: low. Rope: two coils lost. Wolf: dead. Seal: alive, barely.
"Under," Zubair decided, nodding toward the service stairs. "We push the carcass to the first landing. We don't feed everything through our living room."
