She knows, intimately, that it would take barely any pressure at all for him to tear her fingertip to the bone.

It's an idle thought, an amusement as she pets his throat, then drops her hands back down to fold on her stomach.

He doesn't - or the hawk doesn't - really like to be touched. Tobias tolerates it, when she tries, but she won't take advantage of that.

...anymore than she just has.