Her train of thought was broken as she noticed an incoming party made of a few earth-griffins bringing one of the dead grass lions—the least rotten and the least smelly, she hoped—followed by Giraldi, who spoke out, and Imlay, who was frowning. Gilda’s eyes then went towards the dead grass lion, and for the first time, she could see the damage the Marines had wrought on it. She could see holes all over its neck and body, guessing the one in its eyelids was what finished it off. 