She stood

At the wet mouth of the beast before her with nothing but the fire inside, preserved by wool and cotton packed around her hands and wrapped around her neck.

Teeth had grown there

Like needles threatening to crash down in death so painful and gruesome that it would slip and melt back into the memory of humanity without ever having a single true witness to its horror.

She looked

At them directly, her head craning back to see the points above her like stars in the sky. Saliva dropped into her tear duct, it is cold, and the beast is long dead.

But still, she trembled.