Above the town square, a thunderous crack is heard, as space itself splits apart. An uneven circle, five meters across, opens above the height of the buildings. Water with the pressure of a water cutter shoots up straight into the air, and continues an unfathomable distance into the air. The sound of the water flow in deafening.

If one is paying attention, far up in the sky, one could see a ghostly eel-shaped creature depart from the water beam and fly off toward a distant mountain.

The water keeps flowing at alarming rates.

20 seconds later, a figure calmly swims out of the column, somehow not launched into the sky by the flow. It drops, and lands on the ground hard.

<Ah, they chose to escape to a dry environment. Smart. Harder for me to follow.>

The figure seems to inflate to an amorphous blob while falling, and after landing slowly seems to deflate into a sleek humanoid. The legs bend too many times, and the eyes are red and piercing. There are plentiful fins especially around the legs, and the dark scales shimmer under the sunlight as water drips off

The figure stands up and makes a relaxed gripping gesture at the water column.

The tear in space quickly closes and the water column tapers off until it stops.

Some of the first water starts to make its way down again, and a heavy rain starts, salty to the taste. Sometimes, a piece of kelp, some coral, or an aberrant looking fish falls from the sky.

The figure takes note of the ghostly eel creature in the sky.

Then the figure turns their attention to their surroundings.

What their surroundings primarily are, at this point in time, is damp. Possibly less damp than their previous surroundings, though.

It's hard to say what other features of the area will be salient to them, though. Perhaps it is the neatly built wooden buildings, stuccoed against the elements, clearly built with tools beyond what can be mundanely constructed underwater. Perhaps it is the metal and glass four-wheeled vehicle rapidly reversing direction back up the paved and painted road, electric motor faintly whining.

Or perhaps it is the land-dwelling figure of a man with a perfectly normal number of knees and a snow shovel, rendered redundant by the salty water, over his shoulder. He stands at the foot of a short set of steps leading up to a central building, larger than the others, and stares at the visitor for a long moment. 

"Well," he finally remarks. "Isn't that something."

Then he half turns to call over his shoulder into the building. 

"Ludhi! I think I'm hallucinating. You might want to get on that."

They see the motion of the vehicle.

<This arrival seems to have scared some of the larger local life forms.>

Then they look over to the being roughly shaped like themselves.

<But not some of the smaller ones. I wonder if they communicate.>

They take a few steps toward the being that made noise.

If the being spooks, they'll stop, but while their approach is unhurried, they have nearly nothing in the way of human body language, meaning they're oddly stiff and alien in their motions. They do not blink.

Þereminians tend to pride themselves on being open-minded and welcoming. But that acculturation tends to come out the worse compared to millions of years of evolution. So Ðonzih does spook, a bit, when the creature comes toward him.

He makes a warding gesture toward the almost-certainly-a-hallucination and calls out in LCTL, slowly backing up the steps.

"I'm not sure who or what you are, but I am distinctly unsettled, possibly seeing things, and would prefer that you don't approach, all things considered."

These sounds don't immediately register as communication, but backing away from a threat is considerably universal.

They stop and back up a few steps. They wait to see if that helps.

That does help, yeah. It shows that it is ... maybe capable of understanding?

A woman with fantastically spiky hair pokes her head out of the door of the building.

"... nope. I see that too, Ðonzih. Well."

She whistles a tune that makes her phone chirp.

"Audio command recognized: calling Emergency Services ..."

"Emergency Services — what is the emergency?"

"There is some kind of grey, unsettling, humanoid creature who appeared in the square here —" her phone will have relayed her location on its own "— and at least two of us can see it. Me and Ðonzih."

"Okay — can you put Ðonzih on the phone so I can confirm what they see, please?"

And the conversation will continue along those lines for several moments, unless the unexpected visitor interrupts.

<There are two of them. They are near each other and don't spook each other. Guarding each other perhaps? Packs. Perhaps means communication.

They're making a lot of noise and it seems the noises are repeated. Communication?

Let's see if that works.>

They pick out some parts of the noises and tries to repeat them. Sadly their mouth is currently configured with baleen. The result does not sound particularly similar.

They open their mouth and emit a SCREEECH.

There is this to say about þereminians: if an animal makes noises at them, they have a certain tendency to make noises right back.

Ðonzih makes his own "Screeeeech" — although it lacks some of the terrifying harmonics of the figure's. Then he points to Ludhi and himself, stating their names, on general principle. If the figure has a concept of language, it can't hurt, and if they don't then he's not going to look foolish to anyone except himself, which is fine.

Imitation! These locals totally use sound for communication!

Okay, limb movements right after. Causal? Limb movements could also be communication!

The figure moves their arm for the first time after approaching, and imitates the pointing gesture exactly, to an eerie degree, including small mannerisms. They repeat the off-to-the-side gesture first, then to the their own body. They screech in time with the gestures, this time more quietly, to match the general cadence of the names Ðonzih pronounced.

SCREE-eech SCREE-eech!

... okay. On the one hand, that sure looks like the being doesn't understand concepts like "gestures" or possibly "names". Which is ... a challenging starting point. He's an accountant, not a linguist.

On the other hand, it's neither approaching any closer nor eating him, and he isn't hallucinating. And Emergency Services will be on their way real fast. And he doesn't need to finish shoveling the steps of the town hall. So, things are better overall than they could be.

"Should we be ... doing a pronoun skit?" he mutters lowly to Ludhi

"It mimicked your pointing a lot better than it mimicked the sound," she points out. "Maybe we should start with the signed mode?"

And so, after a moment of communication, the two straighten up and enact a little skit:

"I am Ludhi. You are Ðonzih," Ludhi says, speaking and signing simultaneously.

    "I am Ðonzih. You are Ludhi," Ðonzih replies.

Then Ludhi turns to the visitor. "I am Ludhi. You are ..."

She doesn't include the question word, because the being might think that she was naming it "what", which would lead to all kinds of confusion.

Excitement, this is definitely communication. There are patterns. They are regular! What do they indicate? Let's start with imitation as encouragement.

They imitate the full gestures, screeching along, now even more quietly as they get more control. They keep unblinking eye contact with Ludhi throughout the entire imitation.

"I am Ludhi. You are Ðonzih."

The gestures change slightly to match Ðonzih's idiolect.

"I am Ðonzih. You are Ludhi"

And back again.

"I am Ludhi. You are ..."

They pause for a moment. The proximity gesture keep the same flickering finger pattern as the being it is close to. Let's see if that's right.

Eye contact with Ðonzih. "I am Ludhi. You are Ðonzih." 

Eye contact with Ludhi. "I am Ðonzih. You are Ludhi." 

They wait, realizing they don't particularly have a way to know if that was right or not

Ðonzih and Ludhi exchange glances. This is ... not how it usually goes, in the fiction that Ludhi has read about this kind of exchange. But. That makes sense, that an alien would be much more strange than they were expecting, even given that.

It's definitely trying, and Ludhi has too much dignity to be the first one to give up on trying to communicate, even if she's really not sure what to do next.

She goes up the steps, and drags a table and chair from the anteroom down.

"I am Ludhi. They are Ðonzih. That is a table. That is a chair. That is the lake. That is the sun. That is the town hall."

Larger Continent Trade Language has a very regular structure, so these sentences all follow the same sentence structure: "Designated <pronoun in nominative case> <word or fingerspelled name>".

She gets Ðonzih to repeat the same series of sentences. Then, because this alien keeps undershooting the amount of context they're assuming, they both repeat the sentences in different orders, and while standing in different locations, so that the relative nature of the pronoun gestures becomes apparent.

As they take a break to get things from inside, the rain starts to let up. It seems the last of the water has made its way down, and at this point the area is looking fairly flooded, at least if the drainage of the area is not overengineered to a fairly high degree.

As they come to the end of their repetitions of these designations, which the figure is watching with rapt attention, they suddenly snap their head up into the sky. 

They do a hasty aggressive sweep of one arm with a grabby motion toward their left, and for a moment something warbles in their hand in a way that threatens comprehension.

A large blob of something hits the ground to the right of Ðonzih, dangerously close. Upon inspection, it could have been a seal before it fatally decompressed, if it wasn't for the tentacles...? and the extra eyes.

The impact creates a rather big splash of salt water. Ðonzih, the table, and the chair, are all probably soaked.

<So much collateral damage, so much death.> They scan the sky for a second, disappointed in something, but not finding it.

They look back at Ðonzih, seemingly inspecting him, taking slow steps to his right to see more angles.

"Aaah!"

He scrambles back from the sudden blob, falling back against the stairs.

The surroundings are fairly soaked — the village relies on 'be up-hill from a lake' for drainage, so water is piling up and spilling around the buildings.

"Is everything okay there?" the Emergency Services dispatcher calls from Ludhi's phone. Letting people try to make contact with the creature when it tried to talk was perfectly reasonable, so they've just been scrambling up the escalation chain while Ludhi and Ðonzih work.

"Please attempt to remain calm and deescalate — a support helicopter is inbound, ETA 33 minutes."

There is no escalation from the figure's side, they just seem focused on Ðonzih on the ground, but not approaching. The blob stays still. But it smells awful, like wet old places and gore.

Ðonzih is charged with maintaining the cleanliness of the town hall. And he has a snow shovel.

But he is not particularly interested in touching that. And maybe Emergency Services will think it's relevant. Anyway, he's busy with the alien. That's his story and he's sticking to it.

The alien probably can't get that good a look at him when he's bundled up in thick woolen winter clothes, even if they are now soaked with seawater. But he doesn't particularly want to take them off under these conditions, either, and he doesn't think they've conveyed enough information to the being to be able to manage something like "why don't you come indoors away from the risk of Sudden Sky Flesh Blobs".

He gives the SSFB a wary glance, and decides that maybe this is a problem best solved by briefly commandeering Torvash's garage.

He gets up slowly, and starts signing "follow me" while circling around the alien at a healthy distance and making for a building a bit up the hill from the town hall.

Ludhi is updating the dispatcher — who has issued a general 'shelter in place' order to the village, although that doesn't stop curious villagers from peering at the scene taking place in the center of town through windows.

Those are more communication attempts. They were just about ready to think that they had a handle on that first bunch. The straight looking gesture seems like a line to be continued. They give it a chance, signing and softly screeching, cause the noise is important for some reason.

"That is a chair" pointing to the chair.

"That is the sun" generally pointing upward, not particularly close to the sun.

"That is Ludhi" pointing to Ludhi.

Ðonzih might not see this if his back is turned as he's leaving.

If Ludhi stays, so will the figure, since they don't particularly know what the new sign is conveying.

<I wonder if that one was hurt by the v̷̠̒ő̷̠ḭ̴̓d̶͉̏ş̵̍ẻ̵ͅâ̷̜l̸̢̀'s impact. Perhaps it's retreating to its nest.>

They have not noticed the cold per se, and is not used to reasoning about which conditions might induce cold related damage outside the depths.

At this point the water has stopped falling, and it seems the last of the propelled objects have hit the ground. What remains is the immediate problem of very sudden flooding everywhere, and the long term problem of what will happen with all this salt and these aberrant flesh pieces and underwater plant life.

Okay, well, he tried. And if the alien isn't inclined to go somewhere, then maybe they will all just stay out here in this cold, salty flood with occasional sudden sky flesh. Why not.

"That is a chair," he agrees. "That is Ludhi."

Probably a professional linguist would have a better idea of how to go about this kind of thing.

Actually, the professional linguist who emergency services pulled into the teleconference thinks they're doing pretty well. She conveys some potential next steps to Ludhi and takes notes.

"I am Ludhi. You are ...." Ludhi tries again. If they've figured out pointing, maybe the alien will be able to fill in a name?

<Repetition for two things but not the third. Is that disagreement on one of them?>

<That pattern is incomplete! What will they do if I do an incomplete pattern?>

"That is the town hall" pointing to the town hall.

"That is the town hall" pointing to another nearby house.

"That is the town hall" pointing to a third nearby house.

A longer pause.

"That is..." pointing to the water.

"That is..." pointing to the blob of flesh.

"That is..." pointing to the the chair.

"That is the town hall," Ludhi agrees. She debates trying to clarify the difference between 'town hall', and 'house' before deciding that she's not ready to boil that kettle of worms. "That is~ the town hall. That is~ the town hall," she settles on, making the gesture for 'designates' the slightest bit wobbly to indicate that those houses are not, in fact, the town hall, but they are pretty close so she's being metaphorical.

... maybe they can just make everyone's houses into official town halls so that she retroactively won't have lied to the alien.

"That is salt water," she says, completing the first incomplete pattern.

She's not sure how to refer to the blob of flesh. And she's still cautious about accidentally naming things 'what'.

"That is ..."

She pauses for a moment and then adds "That is the chair."

<The first pattern changed between the first and the others.>

<But the incomplete pattern elicits completion! Is this inquiry?> 

<One of them was not completed. Perhaps they don't know communication for v̷̠̒ő̷̠ḭ̴̓d̶͉̏ş̵̍ẻ̵ͅâ̷̜l̸̢̀'s. It's not as if v̷̠̒ő̷̠ḭ̴̓d̶͉̏ş̵̍ẻ̵ͅâ̷̜l̸̢̀'s could endure this environment for any amount of time.>

"That is salt water."

"That is the chair."

"That is ..." to the blob.

A slightly longer pause. <If this is inquiry, then they are inquiring about my identity. I don't have enough patterns to fairly describe myself.>

"I am ..."

"I am ..."

Yup! That sure is what they want to know! Who the heck are you?

Ludhi confers with the remote linguist for a moment, and then enlists Ðonzih to go fetch some fruit and other foods for demonstration purposes. He takes the opportunity to change into a dry sweater. When he returns, she puts an apple on the table and signs:

"This is an apple. I am Ludhi. Ludhi eats the apple."

Then she puts actions to words, biting into the fruit and quickly reducing it to a core.

"This is a pear. Ludhi eats the pear."

Soon the pear, too, is a core. New fruit is obtained.

"Ðonzih eats an apple. Ðonzih eats a pear."

She lays out the remaining items: an apple, a potato, a rock, a raw fish, a bowl of beans, a piece of steak, a block of wood, and a lit candle.

"This is an apple. This is a potato. This is a rock. This is a fish. This is beans. This is steak. This is wood. This is a candle. Ludhi generally-eats apples. Ðonzih generally-eats apples. You eat ..."

When the phone makes noise the figure looks at it. <Those small beings seem to have very similar noises to the large ones. Does it communicate too? Why does it tolerate being held? Symbiosis?>

<This seems to be an action! They communicate about sustenance.>

They correctly repeat the naming of all the foods.

<Hm, could that be "once sustained by"?>

"Ludhi generally-eats apples. Ludhi generally-eats pears. Ðonzih generally-eats apples. Ðonzih generally-eats pears."

A pause.

"Ludhi generally-eats potatoes."

"Ludhi generally-eats steak."

"Ludhi generally-eats rocks."

"Ludhi generally-eats ..."

"Ludhi generally-eats apples," she agrees. She goes through each food item (indicating that Ðonzih eats them too) until they reach rocks.

"Ludhi can't eat rocks."

She pushes the rock away from her.

As it turns out, Ludhi and Ðonzih generally-eat apples, pears, potatos, fish, beans, and steak. They can't-eat rocks, wood, and candles.

She ends again with "You eat ..."?

<They repelled the geological sample. Do they not gain sustenance from it perhaps? The motions were the same except... that head movement.>

"Ludhi generally-eats apples. Ludhi can't eat rocks."

She repeats those statements to indicate agreement.

She takes an exaggerated demonstration bite of an apple, her lip pulled back to show that her teeth go right through it. Then she puts the rock in her mouth, and (gently enough to not hurt her teeth) bites down. This does not do anything to the rock, which she shows to be unblemished. She repeats the demonstration with the block of wood.

"Ludhi can't eat rocks. Ludhi can't eat wood."

<Ok!>

They point the to blob repeatedly.

"That eats fish." "That can't eat rocks."

A pause.

"Ludhi can't eat that." "Ðonzih can't eat that."

"Ludhi can't eat that." "Ðonzih can't eat that."

Another pause. 

"I can't eat..."

Yeah, Ludhi was super not going to try to eat that.

Still! Communication is occurring, which is actually pretty reassuring!

"You can't eat Ludhi. You can't eat Ðonzih."

... which is maybe not the most diplomatic thing to say. And also it's more of a "I hope you won't" then "you definitely can't". But. The figure is pretty damn unnerving and she wants to be clear on this point.

They take a few steps back in shock and to be nonthreatening. <Is that something they've been considering as a possibility?!>

"I can't eat Ludhi. I can't eat Ludhi."

"I can't eat Ðonzih. I can't eat Ðonzih."

And then again, this time returning to base position with the arms quickly after the sign for eating.

"I can't eat."

The alien can't eat ... anything? Period?

Ludhi can't possibly see how that could be true, but it seems pretty clear that it won't eat them, which is really the most important thing in this whole situation to her personally.

She pauses to think about where to go from here.

The figure points to the rock, then carefully approaches and picks up the rock, then backs away again.

Then they hesitate.

They put the rock back, and then point to their hand.

"This is a..."

Then they point to their eye.

"This is a..."

"This is a hand. This is an eye," Ludhi supplies, curious to see where they're going with this.

"Hand. Eye." they repeat.

"Ludhi can't eye hand. Ðonzih can't eye hand."

"Ludhi can't eye hand. Ðonzih can't eye hand."

"Ludhi eye rock. Ðonzih eye rock."

"Ludhi eye apple. Ðonzih eye apple."

The þereminians try to brainstorm things that they can do to rocks and apples but can't do to their hands, that somehow involve eyes. They fail to come up with anything plausible.

"You eye ..." she asks, in case that helps.

Hm, they're not acting as they would if they understood. Let's add more steps.

They look at the apple, and without looking at the þereminians, sign "I eye apple. I can't eye Ludhi. I can't eye Ðonzih."

They go back to the continuous unblinking eye contact with Ludhi. "I can't eye apple. I eye Ludhi. I can't eye Ðonzih."

They shift the piercing eye contact to Ðonzih. "I can't eye apple. I can't eye Ludhi. I eye Ðonzih."

At this point they've stopped screeching along because it seemed like all the information being communicated was encoded in the hands anyway.

Oh! That makes more sense.

She makes unblinking eye contact with the visitor.

"Ludhi eye you."

She turns to look at Ðonzih.

"Ludhi eye Ðonzih."

Ðonzih and Ludhi compose a few other looking-at related sentences to make it clear they have understood this new subject, even if they're not sure why the visitor is bringing it up.

That seems better, let's try the first thing again.

"Ludhi eye rock. Ðonzih eye rock."

"Ludhi can't eye I hands. Ðonzih can't eye I hands."

"You can't see my hands" is ... a baffling claim for someone to make via sign language.

Ludhi stares directly and pointedly at the hands with which the being has been signing at them.

"Ludhi eye that. That is a hand. That is a you hand."

"Ludhi eye that. That is a hand. That is a I hand." the figure agrees.

Staring intently at Ludhi's hands. "I eye Ludhi hand."

"I can't eye Ludhi hand." and after signing this they look up into the sky.

Then they pause for a moment.

"I eye rock." tiny pause, then they look at the rock.

"I can't eye rock." tiny pause, then they look to the side.

"Ludhi eye rock."

Ah.

Ludhi obediently looks at the rock.

They wait about eight seconds, then:

"Ludhi can't eye rock."

She turns her back on the rock, although she keeps the figure in view so she can see what they sign next.

<Ok good, we established looking, and we've established instruction. Let's see if I forgot a third thing.>

"Ludhi eye rock. Ðonzih eye rock."

"Ludhi can't eye I hands. Ðonzih can't eye I hands."

This is going to end in confusion, they're sure. But the two þereminians stare at the rock and not at the visitor's hands.

<Oh good!>

Something warbles incomprehesibly from the direction of the figure. The rock gently starts floating. The apple follows suit. Then they both land back on the table.

The warbling stops. Do the þereminians look back at the hands before the warbling stops?

... though it is perhaps the hardest thing that Ludhi has done in her life, no. She is not going to single-handedly ruin first contact on account of magic, especially magic that ... might not be safe to look at? For some reason?

Or the visitor just doesn't think that they know the language well enough to negotiate an NDA, which is fair.

When the warbling stops, though, she whips around with a look of wild curiosity, hands twitching as she tries to figure out what to say.

"That —" she points to the rock and mimes it rising and falling "— is ..."

Oh good, that would have been disastrous. 

The figure seems calm about what they just did, or well, as expressionless as they've been the entire time, and does not particularly seem to care that they broke a bunch of laws of nature.

"Rock..."

"Apple..."

"Candle don't..."

Yeah, that's what she's wondering!

"Rock ... Apple ... Candle don't ..." she repeats, emphatically.

Surely things don't all stay on the ground around here, to the point where they don't have a pattern for levitation.

The figure will insist.

"Rock..."

"Apple..."

"Candle don't..."

They really don't have a pattern for levitation, no!

Ludhi consults the linguist, and sends Ðonzih in to lug the screen from the conference room for demonstrating things. She'll start with levers, though.

She hunts around for a stick, and uses the stick, rock, and apple to set up a simple demonstration of leverage. With this, she will attempt to convey words for 'push' and 'pusher' (clearly related, the latter is a modification of the former).

And is the pusher the stick or Ludhi in this case?

Is she creating some kind of see-saw or just pushing the table and the stone across the tablev

She's creating a see-saw. In the simplified dialect that she is working toward, here, she is the pusher of the stick and the stick is the pusher of the stone.

It takes some back and forth, but after a while it seems the figure understands both the conceptual idea of Ludhi having a role with regards to the stick, and the stick having a role with regards to the stone, and also the concept of pushing itself.

They try modifying eat in a similar fashion as a test.

Pointing to the core of the apple on the table. "Ludhi is the eat-er of apple."

Luckily, LCTL was designed by a sane person committee, and so the obvious analogous derivation is actually correct for everything except some loan words where the appropriate motion would be hard to see with the atypical handshape.

"Ludhi is the eat-er of the apple," Ludhi agrees.

She next attempts to convey 'float-atypically'* by miming the way that some of the objects floated up, but the figure could reasonably infer 'lift' from the attempt instead.

"You are the atypical-floater** of the rock ...?"

*Translators note: compound word invented on the fly according to the vocabulary creation rules to distinguish it from the way a fish or a cloud floats, or the way a bird or a plane is propelled through the air.

**Hi. You probably know what my notes look like by this point***. Anyway, the actual LCTL word order here is "float-atypically-er", because the grammar is regular, but for ease of comprehension I've put things in the English word order.

***I'm Translator. I sneak into þeremin's office and translate all their manuscripts from LCTL to English before they can post them to the internet.

<Oh they _do_ have a word for it! I don't know why flying would require this additional grammar to convey though.>

"I am the atypical-floater of rock."

"I am the atypical-floater of apple."

"I don't am the atypical-floater of candle."

<I'm starting to get a sense that that slowness at the end is also inquiry... Let's see.>

"I don't am the atypical floater of me."

"Ludhi is the atypical-floater of Ludhi..?"

"Ludhi is the atypical-floater of me..?"

"Ludhi is not the atypical-floater of Ludhi. Ludhi is not the atypical-floater of you," she answers. "Ludhi isn't the atypical-floater of anything!" she continues, before realizing that that's new vocabulary too, and actually it is really hard to establish meanings from scratch.

"Rock is anything. Apple is anything. I am anything. The meeting hall is anything. Ðonzih is anything. You are anything. The candle is anything. Fish is anything. This and this and this and this is anything," she explains, waving her finger to point at everything around them. "Ludhi can't float-atypically anything. Ðonzih can't float-atypically anything."

Ludhi is getting a little frazzled at this point. The Emergency Services dispatcher whistles at Ðonzih, who steps up and places a comforting hand between Ludhi's shoulder blades.

<Oh that's disappointing. I wonder how to solve my problem then.>

<New pattern... Everything seems to be included in it. If it works like I think then...>

"Apple is anything. Anything don't is apple."

"Anything is the atypical-floater of me..?"

<Ðonzih is touching Ludhi. Are they cleaning each other perhaps?>

"Apple is anything. Anything don't is apple*," Ludhi agrees.

"You aren't the atypical-floater of you ...?" Ludhi ventures.

"If Ludhi pushes rock, Ludhi pushes candle," she continues. She pushes the rock and then the candle. "If Ludhi pushes apple, Ludhi pushes rock." Now she doesn't push anything. "If Ludhi pushes stick, Ðonzih pushes apple." She waits a beat, and then pushes the stick. Ðonzih obediently pushes the apple just afterward.

"If you aren't the atypical-floater of you, anything is not the atypical-floater of you. You are the atypical-floater."

*Translator's note: Hi again. Remember that they're using the LCTL word 'designates' here, so it is actually true that anything don't is apple.

"I am not the atypical-floater of me."

<Okay what's this new pattern? Things happening after each other?>

"If I pushes the water, Ludhi pushes the apple." they try, then reach down and splash the first-knee-deep water slightly.

"Anything is the atypical-floater of rock?"

Ludhi pushes the apple.

"Anything is the atypical-floater of rock," she agrees. "You are the atypical-floater of rock. You are anything."

"Anything don't me is the atypical-floater of rock?"

Um. That wasn't quite grammatical, but they probably meant to use a relative clause and just didn't have the grammar for it yet?

"Anything (that isn't you) isn't the atypical-floater of rock," she signs. This is almost the same thing they just said, with a different marker for the start of the relative clause.

"Anything (that isn't me) isn't the atypical-floater of rock" they correct themselves. 

Then they pause, not saying anything new for some moments.

<So nothing here can fly then. That's unfortunate.>

It is, at that moment, that the Emergency Services helicopter rounds the nearest mountaintop. It is quite obviously flying, and is set to land just outside town in a minute or two.

As the helicopter rounds the mountaintop and the sound reaches the town square, the figure's head snaps around to fix it with a stare. <That being seems to be headed this way.>

Pointing to the helicopter, signing quickly. "That is the eater of Ludhi..?"

A sensible concern!

"That isn't the eater of Ludhi. That isn't the eater of you."

She thinks about trying to convey what the helicopter does eat, but that sounds like a job for the professionals who are now arriving.

<Ah, a plant eater!>

Signing more slowly again.

"That is a...?"

"That is a helicopter," Ludhi signs.

The helicopter alights in the field outside the village, and a number of people of the same species as Ludhi and Ðonzih — although with differently colored outer coverings: an angular purple and black design — climb out of it, unloading a bit of equipment with them.

They begin trudging through the mildly alarming quantities of pooling water toward the town square where Ludhi, Ðonzih, and the figure all stand.

<Why does that large being allow them to travel with them? So much symbiosis here! Exciting!>

"The helicopter is the atypical-floater of helicopter!"

Ludhi disagrees.

"The helicopter isn't the atypical-floater of the helicopter. The helicopter is the flier of the helicopter."

She points at the blades on top of it.

"Those are the blades of the helicopter. The helicopter pushes on the blades. The blades push on the air. The air pushes the blades, the blades push the helicopter. The helicopter flies."

She has forgotten that 'air' has not been defined yet.

"If you float-atypically the apple, Ludhi doesn't eye (that the apple pushes anything). If you float-atypically the apple, Ludhi doesn't eye (that anything pushes the apple)."

The first responders arrive, exchanging a few words of greeting with Ludhi and Ðonzih. They don't need to be caught up because they've been watching the video feed from Ludhi's phone.

They start setting up a portable screen for showing demonstration images on.

"This is Marhil. This is Aghonta," the first responders introduce themselves.

<That is a lot of patterns. A new way of mentioning two things together. And many new objects I think.>

<New beings!>

"You are Marhil. You are Aghonta." they repeat to acknowledge these new patterns.

<I wonder what these beings will do.>

What these beings will do is: tap a phone to the screen, causing it to light up and display video footage of a bird.

The screen isn't great — the figure can probably see the individual red, green, and blue pixels — but hopefully it suffices.

Marhil pokes at the phone some more, and soon it is showing four videos in a split-screen way: a bird in flight; the same bird with animated streamlines showing how air flows around the wing, the wing beats pushing on it; a clip of the apple floating, from the point of view of Ludhi's phone; a clip with the same kind of overlay, but showing that the apple does not appear to be pushing on the air.

Then they settle in to see how the figure will respond to this, mentally planning out responses.

<So many beings that tolerate being handled! What are these lights it can create?! Bioluminesence?>

The figure slowly gets slightly closer to the screen and peers at it. Then step around it and look at it from the side and behind, still keeping a fair amount of distance to the first responders.

<How can it fit organs when it's so flat.>

The bird animation does not particularly register to them, but the apple floating catches their attention. 

<It can show the past?!>

They slowly step back to the table and pick up the apple that previously floated, and then point to the apple and then to the screen without signing anything else.

The figure's hands aren't in the video, are they?

No, the figure's hands don't appear in the video. Emergency Services wasn't going to trick the alien into thinking nobody was watching when they asked for privacy just because the concept of a phone had yet to be communicated. That would be incredibly uncooperative.

Marhil focuses on just the video of the apple.

"That is the apple. That is the apple," they say, indicating both the apple that the figure holds and the one on the screen.

Good, cause again, that would have been disastrous.

<But it's not. This is the apple. That is just the light of the apple.>

"This is the apple. That is not the apple. That is a... That ... the apple."

<These beings have extremely similar patterns. How do they coordinate to have this amount of precision in similarity of patterns?!>

Ah, fair. They quickly think through what vocabulary to introduce that will get the point across but not cause problems later.

"That is the apple. That is not the apple. That is a picture that displays the apple."

They hold up their phone, and switch the screen over to showing what the phone camera sees.

"This is a phone. That is a screen. I linked the phone to the screen. If the phone eyes the apple, the screen shows a picture that displays the apple."

They turn the phone to look at their face.

"If the phone eyes me, the screen shows a picture that displays me."

<That's a new construction I think. Does it...>

They walk over to the table and pick up the stick. They push the apple with it.

"This is a stick that pushes the apple..?"

<Why are there two names for the flat being?>

"That is a picture." pointing to the screen. 

"That is a screen." pointing to the screen.

"Picture is a screen? Screen is a picture?"

"That is a stick that pushes the apple!" Marhil agrees.

"Picture is not screen."

They reach down and fish multiple apples out of their supply kit.

"This is an apple. This is an apple. That is an apple. This apple is different from that apple."

They point back at the screen.

"That is a screen. The screen shows the picture."

They change the screen back to showing the video of the bird.

"The screen shows a picture that is different. The screen is not different from the screen. The picture is different from the picture. The screen is the shower of the picture."

<So much ambiguity! Why are there two steps! Can't we just...>

"That is a screen that displays a not apple? That is a screen that displays a..."

Buddy, you're the one who wanted to distinguish between an apple and a picture of an apple.

"That is a screen that displays a not apple. That is a screen that displays a bird."

Just to get the word "display"!

"Helicopter is the flier of helicopter?"

"I am not the flier of me."

"Helicopter is the flier of Marhil."

"Helicopter is the flier of me..?"

"Helicopter is the flier of helicopter. Helicopter is the flier of me," Marhil agrees. "Helicopter is the flier of you."

It's not the typical use for a helicopter in this situation, but if the alien wants to be somewhere else, they don't see a good reason not to facilitate that.

They arrange for Aghonta and Ludhi to stand a few meters away.

"Ðonzih walks to Ludhi."

Ðonzih does so.

"Ðonzih walks to Aghonta."

Ðonzih does so.

"Helicopter flies you to ...?"

<I knew it'd be worth communicating!>

They point to some mountains nearby.

"Helicopter flies me to that."

Sure, why not.

Marhil packs up their things again, although the other Emergency Services personnel are going to remain on-site to deal with any structural instability from the flooding, or other fallout from the alien's visit.

Then they lead the way back to he helicopter, signing to the pilot that the alien has asked to be flown to one of the nearby mountains.

The helicopter is large and black. It has one spot up front where the pilot sits, four seats and some equipment storage in the middle, and sliding doors to climb inside. Marhil climbs into one of the passenger seats, and then demonstrates how to fasten the five-point restraint. Is the alien going to need an explanation to follow along?

They start toward the helicopter. Then they pause for a moment, and point back to the blob of meat.

"Ludhi can't eat that. Donizh can't eat that. Marhil can't eat that. Aghonta can't eat that." they emphasize.

They imitate Marhil closely, using the same handholds in the same order. They can pick up the use of the five-point restraint after seeing it once, but they repeat all demonstrative steps too.

<If this is the ritual of symbiosis then I will not complain.>

Do they prematurely show how to get loose as well?

Not yet.

The helicopter is a little quieter than an Earthy helicopter — but is still plenty loud, since it has to move a lot of air to take off. The pilot puts on the throttle and lifts them into the air. Once they're clear of the village he angles them toward the indicated mountain.

"The helicopter flies to the mountain," Marhil signs, indicating the whole mountain by sweeping his finger around a bit. Then he points to two different possible landing sites: flat-ish places on the mountain that have the markers of deliberate clearings in the forest.

"The helicopter flies to there ...? The helicopter flies to there ...?"

The figure doesn't seem fascinated by the flight or by the height, they just seriously stare in the direction of the mountain the entire time.

At one point they seem to be feeling around in the air in the direction of the mountains.

Without hesitation they point to the second location. "The helicopter flies to there."

Alright. Marhil indicates as much to the pilot (who has his eyes on the instrument), and they follow the alien's lead.

The helicopter can't set down anywhere, but Marhil can check a few other safe-landing-looking places to see if there's anywhere else the alien would rather be than that one clearing in particular. They set down in the alien's chosen location a few minutes later, and Marhil shows how to unbuckle the restraints.

They were about to stand up and rip the restraints, so the instruction did not come a second too early.

Once out they do the feeling-around-in-the-air motion again, and then stride off into the woods at a brisk, but followable pace.

After a few moments, they turn and sign.

"Marhil walk to me..? Marhil walk to helicopter..?"

Marhil super wants to know what is going on. Even if it involves going mostly alone into the woods.

"I walk to you," they agree. They check that they've got their emergency equipment harness on, and then follow after the figure at a light jog. The snow makes footing a bit uncertain, but they're wearing boots and outdoor gear, and Emergency Services first responders have to stay fit.

The figure does not seem to notice or care about the cold of the snow. 

You know how animals like foxes can walk really straight as the leave footsteps in the snow? And how humans usually leave somewhat irregular trails? Yeah the figure walks as if it were a fox. Taking aim at a landmark until it's time to turn, and then they turn.

The seem to be following some kind of trail can not be seen. They walk for maybe 10 minutes, and the figure says nothing unless interrupted.

They come, after a time, to an overhang, shielded from above by a huge pine tree. Below it stands a natural cave, several times their height, and winding back into the darkness of the mountain.

There are distant noises echoing from inside. Marhil would not recognize it as any animal from around these parts. It's hissy with high pitched components, with the occasional low roar.

Pointing into the cave.

"That is the eater of Marhil. That is not the eater of me. Marhil walk to me."

"Marhil don't eye my hands. Marhil don't eye my hands."

... aaaand now Marhil regrets coming along with.

Well. If they die, its sure to be in a scientifically interesting way, and that is really the most they can hope for.

They stick close to the alien and tilt their head back to keep from accidentally looking at their hands. They check that their phone is recording. It is — both locally and to the helicopter.

They advance slowly into the cave, making little noise. As they get further in the noise grows louder.

Whatever it is, it's restless.

Then they see something luminescent in the darkness, appearing around a bend.

It seems to go back and forth in a slightly larger area, floating off the ground. Every time it turns it hits the side of the cave with the tail and it never quite stops. It stays quite curled to fit in the tight space.

The body is about two meters in diameter.

It hasn't noticed them.

That is so cool! Eeeee! More aliens! Maybe it's hurt and this alien is a wildlife officer or something?

Marhil does their best to be silent. It isn't as good an attempt as the alien's is, but they can still keep their footsteps soft and light.

It's unclear whether Marhil made a noise, if the figure did, or whether it saw them, but it stops its pacing, and then snaps around to look at the two of them. 

Everything goes quiet.

Then it charges at them at an alarming speed!

Marhil quickly deduces they aren't going to outrun that, and throws themself down and to the side in a way that keeps them hopefully out of its path and out of the friendly alien's way.

It redirects toward Marhil and is about to- 

And then it suddenly stops two meters away with a strong warble from the figure. It keeps doing the swimming motion, but gets no closer.

The figure walks up in front of it and looks into its eyes, and then Marhil can see a red light from the figure reflecting off the cave walls.

A moment passes, two, with no noise but the warbling, and then the ghostly eel-like creature starts to calm down.

Then it tries to turn around, and as it does, the warbling stops. It sullenly swims back into the cave a bit, and settles down, floating close above the floor.

The figure follows it in and puts a hand on the creature's left flank. In case Marhil has forgotten themselves, they place their body inbetween Marhil and the hand. Then there's a warble again. They stay like that for a few moments.

Marhil takes deep, calming breaths. Okay. Telekinetic wildlife control officer. Makes sense, when you have telekinetic wildlife.

They rise to a crouch and move over to be behind the alien again, doing their best to peer at the creature in a way that does not leave them looking at the alien's hands.

As Marhil moves closer, the eel looks over but does not move. It does not stop looking.

The figure finishes up and the warbling stops.

The eel seems less tense and less restless now.

The figure backs up, pushing Marhil lightly with their body if they don't back up fast enough, without turning.

Then they do a dramatic gesture with their arms and the creature disappears in a loud warble. In its place, a volume of water roughly shaped like it appears, bringing with it some bioluminescent jellyfish.

The water pours over the floor and a small wavefront splashes across Marhil's boots harmlessly.

The figure turns toward the entrance and starts to walk out again, calmly.

... oookay, magical eel successfully rehomed? Is that what happened here?

Marhil follows them back out, noting the vibration when their phone can see the sky again and says that it's synced up with the Network backup again.

They seem less assertive than before, when they suggest.

"Helicopter flies me to Town Hall"

Yeah, that makes sense. The rest of the first contact team is back there, and it's where the bus will be arriving in another half-hour or so.

Marhil agrees and leads the way back to the helicopter.

Unless Marhil strikes up conversation or something unexpected happens, the figure is mostly "quiet" on the way back, but with more curiosity for the surroundings now.

They look at the trees, get up close to look at the leaves at some point, peer out of the helicopter at the landscape, and if they encounter any animals, it will watch it with a predator-like intensity, most likely spooking the animal.

Well, if the visitor is on less of a pressing deadline, now, Marhil can provide vocabulary for whatever they're interested in. That's probably a good basis for encouraging more language exchange.

If Marhil offers a word for an object the figure is interested in, they'll start asking "That is..?" for many things.

They are more than happy to provide words for everything in the environment.

Eventually, the helicopter sets back down in the field outside the village, and Marhil hops out.

The ground is wet here too, but not as flooded. The figure walks back to the town square, asking for more words as they go.

Upon arriving, are there any changes in the area from the emergency service's work?

Not immediately visible ones; the flooding luckily isn't bad enough to have caused major structural damage, so the other first responders are mostly going door-to-door cataloguing damage and making sure everyone is alright.

Once they arrive back, though, Marhil does have a linguist-approved set of multi-person pantomimes intended to convey concepts related to communication. He'll call some of the emergency responders back over to help with that, although they'll take a moment to finish their current tasks.

There are more beings! Were they, too, carried in by symbiotic flying large beings? Or did they come out of their nests? Were they attracted by calls of the beings here?

The figure walks over to the v̷̠̒ő̷̠ḭ̴̓d̶͉̏ş̵̍ẻ̵ͅâ̷̜l̸̢̀. and bends down next to it. They put a hand on it.

<This end was not of the ecosystem. There is sorrow here.>

They stand up again.

<These beings spent energy communicating with me that they could have saved for gathering food or caring for their shelter. They also gave me the gift of aid as soon as they could understand my request. I have a bond to this ecosystem now, and it is only right I Tend to it as well.>

They look around at all the beings looking in all kinds of directions.

To Marhil:

"Marhil is a..?  Ludhi is a..? Ðonzih is a..? Aghonta is a..? I am not a...? Fish is not a...?"

Oh, yeah, Marhil probably should have gotten to this particular vocab word earlier.

"Marhil is a human," they explain, completing the rest of the sentences accordingly.

Let's see if they can propagate patterns.

"Human don't eye my hands."

Sure, more weird alien magic. Marhil calls a sentence, and all of the humans in visual range turn away to avoid looking at the figure.

Indeed, more weird alien magic.

They look around to see that they all quickly and coordinatedly looked away. Faster and more completely than expected, these beings behave like a swarm that has lived together continuously for a long time, but some of them arrived from far away.

A small, short warbling this time. 

They put a translucent sphere on the table. It has a dark blue tint, is about the size of a smaller melon, and looks approximately like a fish egg. There are wispy chaotic patterns inside.

<Oh right, I should tell them.>

They wait until Marhil starts looking at them again.

"That is a fish rock".

"I eye fish rock" They bend over and look at the sphere for a full two seconds.

"I eye eye fish rock." They bend over and stare really hard at the sphere for seven seconds.

"Humans don't eye eye fish rock. Humans eye fish rock."

... um.

On the one hand, magic? alien? technology?? is pretty cool. On the other hand, having an ongoing memetic hazard — or whatever is going on with the alien's sight-based magic — sounds like a bad idea. That's just asking for someone to eventually look at it too much.

Marhil takes an emergency blanket out of the pouch on their belt and drapes it over the fish rock, just in case.

"Humans don't eye eye fish rock," they confirm. "If humans eye eye fish rock, then fish rock ...?"

<That pattern again. A sequence of things somehow, happening after each other. What would happen after they gaze into it? Ah, I don't have enough patterns but this will convey it I think.>

"If Marhil eye eye fish rock, then Marhil is the eater of Marhil."

Then, seemingly expecting the humans to be done with that line of injuiry, they turn to the town hall.

"Town hall is the town hall of Ludhi."

"I fly the eater of Marhil" (point to the mountains) "to town hall of eater of Marhil."

"I walk to the town hall of that." Point to the flesh blob.

"I fly that to the town hall of that."

"If humans..."

A pause.

They pick up the rock they levitated before the excursion from the table. With two fingers, they casually crush the rock so it falls into a couple large pieces and a fair bit of rock dust.

"I ... the rock."

They wait for an answer.

If they look at the fish rock too much they'll develop spontaneous auto-cannibalism????

Marhil suppresses their confusion, murmuring notes to their phone and trying to figure out the rest of the entity's statements.

"You crush the rock."

They reach down to pick up a clod of dirt (well, mud, given the water), and crush it in their hand.

"I crush the dirt."

"If humans crush the rock, then you fly to the rock? If an eater-of-humans walks to here, then humans crush the rock, then you fly to the rock, then you fly the eater-of-humans to the town-hall of the eater-of-humans?"

That sentence is long and complicated, but Marhil is pretty sure that the if-then construction has made it across the language barrier.

Good guess or inference from these humans!

"If humans crush fish rock, I walk to fish rock!"

"Humans don't eat fish rock."

"If eater-of-humans walks to humans, then humans crush fish rock!"

"If that (flesh blob) walks to humans, then humans crush fish rock."

"If anything is the crusher of humans, then humans crush fish rock."

"If ..., then humans crush fish rock."

"If helicopter fly me to mountains, I fly eater-of-humans to town hall of eater-of-humans. If helicopter don't fly me to mountains, I don't fly eater-of-humans to town hall of eater-of-humans. Fish rock."

Li'l pause. "Don't eye my hands."

*Warble*

When they look back the rock has reassembled neatly, and if they later compare it to footage from before, it will be clear it's the exact same rock.

"I ... the rock."

Okay. Alien wildlife control officer has a specific list of conditions under which to contact them! Great! Marhil checks that the dispatcher got that.

And it sounds like they can move dangerous wildlife around, but they'd need transport and cooperation to do so, which is perfectly reasonable.

This is objectively going great, given the language barrier; they've communicated a lot. But Marhil is a bit at a loss for how to clarify the verb, here. They call to one of their colleagues, who happens to be the sort of person who always has playdoh on her.

They take the (purple) playdough out of its little glass canister, and show it to the alien.

"This is playdoh."

They roll the playdoh flat and shape it into a circle, since that's the most complicated shape they think they can reliably make with their hands.

"I shape the playdoh. You atypically-shape the rock?"

"That is playdoh. You shape the playdoh. I don't shape the rock."

Pause.

"Don't crush is...?"

"If anything is the crusher of Ludhi, then Ludhi walk to town hall, then Ludhi is the don't crusher of Ludhi, then Ludhi walks to don't town hall."

"The eater-of-humans fly to mountain. I walk to mountain. Marhil walk to mountain. I" - hesitation - "atypically-float the eater-of-humans. I eye eye the eater-of-humans. I don't crush the eater-of-humans. I fly eater-of-humans to town hall of eater-of-humans."

"I crush the rock. I don't crush the rock."

"Don't crush is..?

Nope, Marhil is back to having no idea what they're trying to communicate. They confer with the dispatcher on their phone for a moment and eventually put together a guess.

"Don't crush is restore."

They squeeze the playdoh gently, and then massage it back into shape.

"I gently crush the playdoh"

They squeese the playdoh hard, making it ooze between their fingers before they gather it into a ball again.

"I forcefully crush the playdoh."

"Humans can't atypically-restore things. Humans can shape-restore humans that are gently crushed. Humans can't restore humans that are forcefully crushed. Humans can shape-restore helicopters. Humans can shape-restore town halls. You can atypically-restore humans?"

<That seems better. There is a returning to a previous shape involved.

But there's that addition pattern again. I should make sure before I... Does it mean...>

"Atypically".

"Helicopter flies me to mountain. I atypically-fly the rock. I atypically-fly the apple."

"I atypically-restore the rock? I don't shape-restore the rock?"

"If humans don't eye my hands, then I atypically?"

"Yes, if humans don't eye your hands, then you atypically," Marhil agrees, a phrase that they never expected to say prior to today.

<Ah, a pattern for the more active of my Gifts, great!>

"I atypically-restore humans!"

"If humans is forcefully crushed, then humans crush fish rock."

"If anything is the crusher of town hall, then humans crush fish rock."

"If anything atypically, then humans crush fish rock."

"If anything, then humans crush fish rock!"

They look around on the ground, seeming to realize something.

<The plants here are all dead or dying now. Perhaps there is still more death that is not of the ecosystem, here, and death that can be prevented.>

"I atypically-fly salt water to the town hall of eater-of-humans?"

Marhil thinks for a second. They pull a pouch off their equipment belt and grab the rock.

"The rock is outside the pouch," they sign. Then they slip the rock into the pouch. "The rock is inside the pouch."

"If you atypically-fly salt water that is inside the town halls, the town halls are crushed ...? Don't crush the town halls."

<Oh, perhaps their dwellings are sensitive to transversal gifts.>

"I atypically-fly salt-water outside town hall to the town hall of eater-of-humans. If I gently atypically-float salt water inside town hall to outside town hall, then I atypically-fly the salt water to town hall of eater-humans..?"

"You atypically-fly salt-water outside town hall to the town hall of eater-of-humans. You gently atypically-float salt water inside town hall to outside town hall. You atypically-fly the salt water to town hall of eater-of-humans," Marhil agrees with the plan. "Town halls are not crushed."

This would have been a great time to have figured out vocabulary like "please" and "thank you", but that's a lot harder than basic physical (or magical) actions to pantomime ...

Agreement!

"Humans don't eye me!" 

And when people turn, the warbling starts, louder this time.

Slowly, tendrils of water start seeking their way toward the sky. They seem curious, almost playfully twirling through open air. One might incidentally touch one of the emergency response personnel, leaving a wet patch on the side of the (probably already mostly wet) pants, with an unclear level of volition.

Flooded houses have tendrils seek their way out from under doors and through any open windows, perhaps startling their miserably wet inhabitants as the sudden water snakes appear. Once they are out of the houses, they too seek their way to the sky.

Small streams join to moderate streams, join to large streams, converging in the air. It's magnificent!

The streams pull water at a remarkable rate, and soon a large blob floats 10 meters above the center of the town square, with sunlight shining through the dark water.

The figure vocalizes with effort, a low screech, almost more like a continuous creaking.

Then space itself seems to rip, and something opens to a beyond never before seen. A vertical ragged circle with a backdrop of profound darkness starts spewing out water for a moment, before the blob suddenly sends water to meet it. The water achieves an incredible pressure, pushed by unseen forces, then starts flowing into the circle.

The entire constellation sums up to the appearance of a giant, many-armed squid, spitting a continuous beam of water that disappears into nothingness.

The roar of water is awesome, and no one can expect to be heard if they speak. This goes on for some time.

Then some of the first houses start running out of water, and the inhabitants may well be surprised to see that the floors don't have drops of water left, they're left entirely dry.

The Depths have called, and that which belongs to the Depths will return.

Some exceptions are respected. Water captured in bottles will not break the bottles. Salt water that has been (inadvisably) been swallowed does not make its way back up the esophagus. Moisture that has made skin go wrinkly will stay around, and that which has mixed with the water will stay mixed, including the mud outside. The water is leaving, but it's doing so in the promised gentle fashion, and it's taking no chances.

Notably, the nearby frozen lake, any drawn baths, any ice-filled outdoors containers, any poured drinks and other things not of the Depths, do not follow. They have no business heeding the call, and thus stay.

Then the last of the salt water lifts off the ground, and the giant squid retracts its arms, before its head shrinks into nothingness and flows into the tear in space.

The circle closes a little too early, and the last half a cubic meter of water is about to spray across the roofs before it suddenly halts in mid-air and falls uselessly to the ground in a splash.

As suddenly as it started, it ends, and there's silence.

The figure turns its gaze at the splash. 

<Sloppy.>

A fair amount of plants and aberrant fish were, for various reasons, not permitted to heed the call. Though the vast majority followed the tendrils up, some lay on the ground still, kelp decorating some stairs, tentacled fish adorning the mud around Marhil and the figure. The blob of flesh is still there.

When the þereminians look at the figure again, it stands there, looking unbothered by the scale of what they just did.