(Sophie Trohan POV)
The creature's head went round the five of us like a compass needle that had been set down too close to iron.
I could hear all of us breathing. My Perception doesn't switch off when things are frightening. It gets louder.
Elizabeth's breaths were short and careful, as if each one had to be negotiated. Daphne's were ragged.
James had stopped breathing altogether, which he does when he's concentrating, and which I have mentioned to him more than once. Alash's were slow and even, as though he had decided panic was too much effort.
The creature breathed slower than any of us.
Its shoulder was still smoking where James had put that line of gold into it. The hide around the burn was creeping closed, but slowly, and the leg on that side wasn't moving as freely as the others.
Good. Slow was something I could work with.
