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My back is quivering. My head is pounding. As I wake gradually, these are the only things I can focus on; any other sensory feedback is just garnish. Eventually, I start squirming from the pain, and then eventually I manage to stop; I'm not sure how much time it took me. There's a smidgeon of embarrassment when I realize a repeating noise in the back of my mind is actually the sound of my new acquaintance trying to speak to me. I try to get it together so I can at least look at him, but just as I do, the kangaroo doll lunges into a skidding crouch, his nose almost touching mine as he reiterates himself.

"Focus, or you will die."

That news, of course, doesn't really do a lot to calm me down. "What's happening to me?" I manage to murmur.

"You are losing some blood," Suraokh states. "Part of you is wounded. It did not mend itself. Focus to make it stop. The base of your spine. Just think about healing it."

"Believe me," I growl through clenched teeth, "I would love it if I could."

"You misunderstand; you can heal," the gray kangaroo insists. "Think about healing it now."

I grunt through clenched teeth, and focus on the affected area. I can feel that the skin has been torn open, and my bones have split and gone off in several directions. I imagine it's no surprise that I'd rather this not be happening right n-- And just like that, the pain begins to fade, though it's replaced by the rather unpleasant sensation of fluids being sucked back into my wounds as they close up. Even after it stops, I lay motionless, in disbelief about what just happened. Enough time passes that I jolt in surprise when Suraokh grabs my wrist and yanks me to my feet. As I stand, eight newly-acquired tails in addition to my original one drape around me, almost of their own accord. I'll have plenty of time to look myself over later, though. I've done what the kangaroo wanted.

"So now we leave?" I ask.

He nods. "I will lead the way." Holding my unfinished weapon, he turns quickly and begins marching towards a narrow crevice in the walls of the pale yellow stone pit. Before I follow, I take one last glance at the shifting, rippling ball of light that bestowed me with... whatever this is. I hope it's worth the pain. I slip through the crevice, my clothes catching luminescent lichen from the walls as I scrape past. Keeping up with Suraokh proves challenging, especially with these new tails taking up more of what precious little space I have. Speaking of the new tails, they ripped the fabric between the upper and lower belts of my pants; the hole was only meant for one tail. I'll have to get around to fixing it. Humans are pretty lucky. They only ever need one belt so there's no need for this constant abdominal constriction.

It's funny; the agony I was experiencing only moments ago seems like such a distant memory. Suddenly, I can go from fighting for my life to thinking about the specifics of clothing.

We reach the end of the passage, revealing a great cave system, illuminated by Suraokh's glowing orb. The color of this stone is more familiar than the enigmatic chamber we just left, but the coiling shapes and soft edges worn by trickling water cause this place have a mystical, otherworldly appearance of its own. Maybe "otherworldly" isn't so special to people on the holy worlds, but I'm an outlander and Paliputra is the only place I've ever known. Something as mundane as what a rock looks like is actually very special to me.

It's difficult not to slip, but my new acquaintance and I make our way up quite a ways, to an irregular pool in the upper part of the cavern where a metal vessel sits; an almost-spherical thing that doesn't look like it's been used in a while. Suraokh steps up to it, dusting off a section of it and tracing a series of lines on it. After that, a quiet hissing sound begins to grow from that general area. The kangaroo steps back just in time for a muffled pop that causes me to reflexively jump. A dividing door protrudes from the upper half of the squashed sphere; I recognize burst hatches from their use back home, but this instance of them was set in so perfectly that I couldn't even tell they were there. The door slides apart, leaving a vertical aperture, and the secondary door beyond that follows suit. As a zombie, I'm somewhat humbled by it. Like me, it's Paliputran tech, and even if it is old, it is state of the art compared to anything in me. I've got two spoons attached to the internal half of my spinal apparatus for lack of better conductive material at the time of their implementation. Thankfully, they do the job just fine, but I guess I'm self-conscious of them the same way someone might be self-conscious about whether or not they were born digitigrade or plantigrade.

The doll climbs into the hatch without saying a word, and I follow after him, since that's been the pattern thus far. The interior of the vessel is unlike any other I've seen; there are no seats, just a mess of cables and only a few bare places to plant one's feet. I pick my way through the mess carefully until I find somewhere to stand, not too close to the kangaroo. He drops my club inside by the door and approaches what I assume is the front of the space, but it's hard to tell given that there are no windows. His form twitches a few times, and all the cables shift, gathering in ornate coils around him, like a sort of loose cage. I turn as I hear a rumbling from behind me, just in time to see the burst hatches slide shut, leaving the two of us with only the orb for light. The vessel rocks slightly, and I grab onto a hanging cable for balance as we submerge. Naturally, I'm nervous about this, but any feeling of doubt or worry is overpowered by joy. I'm getting off the island. I count myself lucky that salvation came so quickly, but there is still something I am wondering.

"So, where are we going?" I ask.

"Nayre territory, to the east," Suraokh responds. He doesn't move at all, but at least he's responsive.

"Any reason for that?" I follow up.

"Fewer questions asked about me. Less allowance for snooping around."

"Makes sense..." I admit. On Paliputra, there are four states considered superpowers; of them, the Nayre Dominion is most known for fanatical devotion to a militaristic way of life, which makes neighboring them--

>>>>>>>>>

My captor pulls me from her mouth again, displaying a crooked smile, but it doesn't seem to be a particularly jovial one. Her eyes glare at a slightly downwards angle like spotlights under the shade of her bowler hat.

"Did it occur to you that you may be speaking to a Nayrean? In Nayre land?" she inquires.

I gulp nervously at that. I had forgotten my place. "Fanatical devotion can be a respectable thing!" I rush. "Now clearly there are some political differences here but hey, you do you, right? At least Raazdu and Nayre have never had any really big conflicts aside from that one thing, you know?"

The larger jackal raises an eyebrow. "I'm tempted to swallow you again."

"Please don't," I request.

"I won't right now," she says, "but you made me think about it. Just putting that out there."

"Duly noted."

She lifts me up, jaws gaping, and then drops me in once more. I impact with the spot where the back of her tongue meets her velum, and as quickly as I can, I upright myself and get centered on her tongue. I know she literally just said she would not swallow me, but trusting potentially upset people to not get back at you is not a smart thing.

"So... can I continue?" I ask, getting as comfortable as the situation will allow.

She mumbles an affirmation, squishing me up against her palate briefly.

Taking a few moments to wipe myself slightly drier, I recall my place in the tale. Provided I don't mess up our precious acquaintanceship further, I'll be earning my freedom soon.

>>>>>>>>>

"So why are you so worried about being investigated?" I ask. Now seems like as good a time for questions, because there's not a lot else I can do.

"I am a thinking contraption," Suraokh begins. "I cannot passively heal myself. I am strictly a machine. I am a rare thing. I am a misunderstood thing. Maker knew I would be. But I have a purpose. I just need some protection. Where you go, I go."

"What is your purpose?"

The doll's head turns slowly. Just his head, nothing else. "I am Maker's seventh hand. I help Maker touch things."

That answers nothing, honestly. "Who is your Maker?"

Suraokh's head quickly turns back to its initial position. "We are done discussing this."

I can't stop myself from shivering at that. Out of both courtesy and the fact that I'm rather uneased by the doll, I decide that it would be best if I avoid pressing for more information, but I'm still curious and I have a feeling I will be for a while, for better or for worse. Moving on, I grab my unfinished weapon and begin to work on it, summoning a tiny rift and using it to shave off more wood, bringing out a defined handle and an elliptical crossguard. It's wieldy enough now that I can probably get the first hit in against an attacker if needed. Satisfied for now, I set it down next to me and look over my tails. They're actually really nice; the black stripe along the top that widens out to cover the tip is uniform on every single one of them. Somehow they feel a little more... dexterous, perhaps? I try to curl one around the handle of my macana, which, to my surprise, I manage. Lifting it up proves unsuccessful though; that'll take practice. All in all, I'm far from displeased with this change. I do wonder how my hips will fare in the long run, though.

After a time, Suraokh twitches erratically, and the cables shift more tightly around him. "We are being chased after," he states. "I unfortunately cannot outrun them. Prepare to defend us, Merion."

I jump to my feet, taken off-guard by this sudden news. "How?"

"They will catch us, surely. You must fight up close. I must concentrate for now. I will intervene when ready."

"Alright," I agree, though I'm not at all happy about this. "So I just whack them and throw spells?"

"That should suffice, I think," the kangaroo says. "40 seconds until our capture."

Now, 40 seconds seems like a lot of time to stand around doing nothing, but when it's a countdown to something that could easily kill us, I tend to miss every second as it goes by. With perfect timing, something rattles the pod forcibly, causing me to fall. Suraokh braces himself against surrounding cables and remains standing firm, even as the floor flips overhead as we are lifted upside-down. I hit the hatch with my back, and I can feel it warp as something tries to pry into it from outside. Then comes the sound of gas being pumped. I quickly get to my feet and leap into the mess of cables right before the hatch blows, popping out with incredible force and slamming to the sides. A pair of gloved hands reaches between the polymer-lined shutters and a shudder of dread wracks my body.

"Don't waste your chance!" Suraokh shouts, bringing me out of my panicked freeze. Tightening my grip on my weapon, I fling myself at the opening and swing it in a forward arc. I hit nothing, but feel a horrible burn in the left side of my abdomen as it is sliced through. So much for getting that first hit in. I land unceremoniously on the deck of a somewhat-patchwork ship, and a heavy boot follows that trend by landing heavily on me. I struggle to bring myself around, throwing the foot off and releasing a scattering of sparks at my opponent's eyes, only to find them covered by her armor. Green and gray, with a plated, one-horned flexible sallet that renders her blind. The shape of her head, as well as her tail, as motionless as it is hairless, give away that this is an opossum, and not just any, but a high-ranking soldier of Grim. She sheaths her thin curved blade and kicks me over again, reasserting my new role as a podium on which to pose and look majestic.

She utters something in Radiant at her soldiers, and they begin to advance on the pod, clutched in the arm of a crane mounted on the deck. I grunt as I try to get up again but she digs her cleats into me, keeping me in submission. "You are a trespasser here," she says to me in Siggska. "Misbehavior will not benefit you. We've yet to decide what to do with you, after all."

She begins to reach for my weapon to confiscate it, but stops as the pod powers down. Everybody on deck turns their attention to it, and the men who went to inspect stop short of it. Suddenly, Suraokh drops out, landing almost so limply that he falls over, but manages to save his posture and upright himself. The soldiers ready their empty hands for defensive casting; they easily could have apprehended the doll in his moment of proneness but they must have been taken as off-guard by him at first sight as I was. His dull eyes scan across them slowly, before finding me at the mercy of a rather bewildered captain.

"No need to worry, Merion," he assures. "You bought the time needed. I will do the rest."

A pulse of monochromatic energy is released from his body in all directions, pushing everyone in range a good distance, myself included, which thankfully throws the captain off of me. Everybody hurries to get to their feet, just in time to watch the kangaroo's mouth unsew itself, bringing needles with it, like lethal tips on long, thin whiskers. The mouth creaks open, revealing actual teeth connected to actual skeletal jaws, and then all sound simply stops. But only for me; the others cover their ears and drop to their knees again. They look like they're screaming but I can't hear it. I watch, paralyzed with fear as Suraokh approaches the cowering soldiers, and one by one, his thread whiskers lash forward, digging their needles into their chests and seeming to suck something out from each of them. He turns slowly, and begins to move in my direction. At first, I seize up in thinking that he's coming for me, but he brushes harmlessly by me and goes for the captain. He tilts her face up to his with a single hand, his once-listless eyes now sharp and terrifying, with their pupils shrunken to tiny points. Much in the way he didn't need to open his mouth to speak before, his jaws remain agape and still as he speaks to her. It's an odd language, one I've never heard or heard of before, but it's the only thing I can hear, and it surrounds me. "Uukh Shaa'aarhha, Uim Silgarga Roekhthiin."

And then he backs off from her. His mouth stitches itself back up, the needles tucking up in the fabric behind his nose. There's an audible rush of air as sound returns; the captain has stopped screaming. Just the waves and our collective heavy breathing.

>>>>>>>>>

I am pulled out from my place again; it's getting more irritating than it is startling, at this point.

"That just sounded like gibberish to me," the larger jackal says. "How do you remember that?"

"I can't forget it," I state. "It's stuck in my head now, and it's like I almost know what it was supposed to mean. I think he told her he would spare her, and then, despite everything that happened afterwards, he kept his promise. I should have worried that he'd kill her, but I guess I already understood that he wouldn't."

She smirks a little. "Well, he's just a big old softie, isn't he? I'd have put her head above my mantelpiece if I had a mantelpiece. Taking down a Caliphate captain is no small feat."

"It is for him."

"Yeah. So where is he now?"

I suck in air through my teeth. "He's... around-ish? I don't exactly know. He said to come look for you."

"Did he say you could talk about him to me? Because you're spilling an awful lot, for him wanting secrecy.

"He seems to think you're reliable, despite never having met you. I wouldn't breathe a word about him if he didn't say so. Believe me, I'm more scared of him than I am of you."

Very, very poor choice of words on my part. My captor tilts her head, imitating me by sucking air through her teeth as well. "I could change that, right here and now."

"Can we not do th--Whoa, hey!" She almost drops lets me fall as she tilts her hand, but catches me out of the air with the flat of her palm, clapping me against her stomach. It's soft enough to absorb most of the impact but my neck still appreciates it even less than the rest of me.

"In my line of work, fear is kind of important," she begins. She's not even keeping an eye on me; the clouds have her attention right now. "I have to be good at it. And I know exactly what I could do to make you break down. Permanently, if I subject you to it long enough. Besides, I've been falling a little bit behind on my iron intake..."

Her stomach growls, as if on cue, further driving her point in. She dangles me by a single arm, lifting me so I'm level with her face again. I don't say anything. I've got nothing to say. Nothing I can say. All I do is scowl.

And suddenly, she smiles warmly and emits a quiet chuckle. "I'm not really that petty," she says. "To be honest I don't care if you're scared of me or not."

In times like this, I would usually sigh, I think, but I'm so unamused by her game that my expression doesn't change a bit. "Can I finish my story?"

"Please," she invites. "Do get in my mouth first, though, if you don't mind."

"Like I have a say in it," I groan as she lifts me up a bit.

She clamps me gently from the waist down with her teeth, and then quickly jerks her whole head forward, engulfing me in the blink of an eye. In that same motion she stresses the second instance in which she totally could have swallowed me then and there, if she wanted to. I make myself relatively comfortable again, leaning my head back and staring out at the clouds going by in the pale gray sky beyond her teeth. I'm even more irritated now than I was when she pulled me out. Hidden from her field of view now, I finally allow myself to sigh.

Just a little more of this, and then I can get on with my unlife.