"Toxins in the hellhound's claws." Emma's cool gaze flicks over the swollen gash. "Fairly nasty. It'll start to putrefy in a little while, and pretty soon after that you're basically going to have rotted hamburger where your elbow used to be. Either it'll spread all the way up and down your arm, or your lower arm will just kind of ... slide off when the tendons give way." A gruesomely suggestive little gesture accompanies that last.

Her tone, quite cheerful up to this point, drops and turns very sober.

"Tell me who sent you to do this, Ajani. And I'll see you get the antidote before it goes that far."