Elder Blood-Bone leapt from the bone war chariot like a starving vulture diving toward a fresh carcass.
His ragged black robes billowed in the mountain gale.
Ten crooked, yellowed fingernails extended into six-inch talons of poisonous bone. His eyes burned with sickly green greed as his gaze locked onto Little Guo’er.
Beside Grandma Chen, Little Guo’er stood on the flight deck, holding a small porcelain bowl of steaming chicken wontons.
A delicate fragrance of sesame oil and minced scallions rose from the broth.
The child blinked her large, dark eyes, looking up at the screeching ghoul diving from the sky with innocent confusion.
“Grandma Chen,” Little Guo’er said, holding her bowl closer to her chest. “That strange uncle wants to steal my wontons. He looks like a hungry bat.”
“He won’t touch a single noodle, child,” Grandma Chen replied calmly, pulling Little Guo’er behind her floral apron. “A child eating breakfast in the morning is sacred. No demon with dirty nails is coming near this bowl.”
