Shortbeak was shaking. Everything felt cold, and there was a dampness on her scalp, a cold sweat appearing as her breathing became increasingly laboured. Amelia was gone. He had taken her. No. No she couldn’t be. She couldn’t be gone, alone and unprotected, at the mercy of anygriffon who saw her and panicked. She had failed her, she had failed to protect her again. She looked up at the prince, cold fury burning through the increasing fugue of despair. She did not know why, she did not know how. She didn’t care. Her sister was gone and this… thing took her.