The massive cast iron pot hoisted over the hearth started to rumble and shake violently, waking the dog and causing her to bark suspiciously at the sound. I groaned, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes and sat upright peering at the source of the Norwegian Elk Hound’s agitation. It only took mere second for my brain to catch up with what was going on — the egg must be hatching! It’s never been this r...

It has been weeks since the attack. The gnarled wound has only gotten worse — where it first wept blood it now leaks black ichor; part of it is always open, always shedding that foul liquid. Some of the wound has healed in warped, scaled scabs… the veins surrounding the slash are dark and bulging. It has an odor akin to rotting meat mixed with something acidic, sour.

But it wasn’t all bad. I no l...