The gunslinger felt a bright flare of pain in his right hand, but there no time to think about that now[...]Roland saw the stumps of the first and second fingers of his right hand disappearing into the creature's beak[...]The gunslinger staggered to his feet. The thing tore open his dripping jeans, tore thgouh a boot whose old leather was soft but as tough as iron, and took a chunk of meat from Roland's lower calf[...] "No, bastard!" Roland snarled, and kicked it. It was like kicking a block of rock...one that bit. It tore away the end of Roland's right boot, tore away most of his great toe, tore the boot itself from his foot.
- The Drawing of the Three page 18