Today's OneWord: Shoulder

The claw was buried deep - very deep - into my shoulder, edging toward my clavicle. There was no finger attached to it. No implication of a talon. A paw. A mutant hand capable of boasting scales or fur. And of course, it hurt very much.

I took considerable time removing the claw, and when it had finally let go out of my flesh, it made a soggy noise and slumped in my palm. I examined the clotted object and wondered who, or what, had wanted to kill me in the first place.

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