It is not Earth. He knows it is not Earth. But there is life there, that speaks and that builds, and perhaps they can help him. So his mind falls to it.
The Green, already so narrowed to act within a single body, sharpens still further, and traces over a new mind.
He has taken a hint more than he intended, but not so much that he cannot incorporate it within himself.
He seizes his right forearm in his left hand, and pulls branches and creepers back to dissolve his right shoulder. He presses his newly detached arm into his chest, and vines rope around and through it to reintegrate it into himself.
From his bare shoulder sprouts a new limb, more slender than his remaining arm; two thorned claw-arms burgeon from the end of it, and an alien head blooms.
With his new ktk-arm, he imitates the bowing-motion they make with their claw-arms. With his new second mouth, in their chittering language, he says, "thank you."
"Yes," he says. "Traces of the dead ktk's knowledge existed on its corpse. I incorporated some of that knowledge into myself. I apologize if this was not an appropriate use of ktk remains; I am new to this planet and do not well understand your ways yet."
The largest ktk speaks. "The remains of Mkmktkt't's dead should be put to use for the project. The project owed you for your gift of food. Do you consider yourself to have gained recompense, in whole or in part, for that debt, by consuming part of one of our dead?"
"Yes, I want to talk, especially if you're in charge." He'd wanted to say I'm happy to talk but apparently that's unidiomatic in Mkmktkt't'tkt.
To the others: "You're dismissed."
One lopes off into the city, and one, the one who'd escorted him here, departs down the road into the jungle.
"Yes. This body was assembled out of this planet's vegetation, but my mind is from a planet we call - "
He pronounces the name of his home planet with his human mouth.
"It literally means earth or dirt."
"In Mkmktkt't'tkt we designate the planet Ktkplanet. We've hypothesized about life-that-speaks-and-honors-ceasefires on other planets, but I do not know how they are likely to think."
It looks at him oddly. "Projects have names, ktk have designations. You can call me Mkmktkt't-administrator or just administrator."
"No," the administrator says. "If your species has names for its individuals, will it aggravate you if I give you a designation?"
"Accepted." This seems to him a ktk way to respond. "I am trying to find a way to return to my home planet and would like to ask ktk for assistance, if you are able to give it. While I am here I am also interested in assisting your people in such ways as I can that do not rely on my indefinitely continued presence."
He considers his new vocabulary for ways to phrase his next question. Mkmktkt't'tkt doesn't have a word for loved ones, it doesn't have a word for family, it doesn't have a word for friends? It seems cartoonish.
"The dead ktk whose remains I consumed," he says. "Did it have - coworkers who especially enjoyed working with it, who will especially miss it? Would it be appropriate for me to talk with them and reassure them its remains were put to good use?"
"...perhaps?" the administrator says. "I do not know what its talents or preferred types of work were, or if anyone else found it unusually easy to work with. The news of its death will spread swiftly enough, and the news of what was done with part of its remains."
"My species has... many deeply felt emotions around death, and around death of people they knew. One of us might want to speak to another of us, a stranger, who was there to see - the death of - one whose company they enjoyed - and helped make sure the remains were properly disposed of. To process those emotions."