Fassn sits down to pray to Old Ajralan. He won’t admit that he’d like to lick one of Grumalla’s scratching posts, just to see how it is. He asks his deity how he might get his fill.
Meanwhile, Shyan proposes that they dig a pit, and lure the creature into it. Then perhaps they can drop something heavy on its head, killing it, and saving the Jiko. Perhaps even its meat would be good to eat.
Abianarin senses deep pathos from Grumalla. She presses forward with her connection and encounters a spongy mass of resistance. She frowns — ordinarily that type of thing only happens with intelligent creatures, never with monstrous beasts.
Cang privately doubts the efficacy of Shyan’s pit plan. He creeps a little closer to Grumalla, but blows it, stepping on some loose ice that sends up a violent crack.
Grumalla’s head whips in their direction, its keen eyes narrowed, searching.
The group holds its collective breath.
“Hello?” says Grumalla.