Qebhet stared at the hands as though they might grow teeth. Her eyes were huge and dark and avian, were golden and slit-pupilled, were brown and rimmed with white terror. It was hard to see clearly through the red haze, and recognition was slow to dawn.
"Hhhhh..." She wheezed, broke into spluttering coughs and spat an oily feather out onto the floor between them. Ugly, uneven scales bloomed like blisters across one cheek as she looked up, rasping, "Hhhhecate."