The main thrust

The wyvern bore down on him. He knew that now was the time to strike, just as she dove in for the kill. He thrust his sword up and between two great scales on her chest, or rather tried to and failed dismally, his rubbish sword bending and breaking, the beast barely slowed by his puny efforts, her great jaws clamping through his throat easily and allowing her young, his erstwhile prey, to swarm in and tear him into digestible shreds.