but one amongst them fought against the others , her thin arms seeking to embrace him , to defend him from the shrieks and outpourings of their combined hatred , the wounds opening in that woman a match for the most defiled of corpses - yet her body , however corrupted , would heal itself , her protection continue even as the assault continued , her arms thrown about his neck , her warmth smothering him , the pounding of her heart now the pounding of the horses ' hooves and the birds ' wings , the thunder her protests , the lightning the dagger-sharp sticks the old women had cut from the saplings marking the crude graves of their loved ones , their frenzied accusations the myriad greedy barks of the dogs whose bloodlust spilled over their teeth even as the maggots seethed in their twisted mouths ...