Axblade

Another sank to his knees, clutching at his throat where a hand like an axblade had crushed his larynx; […]

I look up at the sky, at blue air and drifting cloud, up there where the wide spaces cleave the spirit like an axblade, I bid the whispering and too-high heavens farewell, then I cast my eyes downward, toward the rising earth, toward the solid place, the human turmoil.

The Marlfox ignored the gibe, listening to the steady ring of axblades against oakwood.