“I must say, I haven’t enough to feed all your—” here Ulxurix searches for the right word to encompass the clutch of a dozen dripping, groaning man-things, before she finishes with “guests.”
Cang breezes past Shyan. “Not a problem, my dear hostess, not a problem. After all, my boys haven’t eaten in some time, have you, boys?”
The creatures’ noises go unchanged.
“Well,” Cang says, clapping his hands. He turns about, takes in the mechanomagical devices and technothurgic apparatuses. Sees the dental chair, the book shelf, the softly glowing magic circle inscribed upon the floor. “I’d better watch out,” he says, chuckling.
The gang shares a nervous glance with Ulxurix.
“I do so hate to be rude,” Cang says. “But my hunger is rampaging.”
“Mine too,” Horton adds. Cang whacks him with a long, firm reed.
“Of course,” Ulxurix says. She hurries to the head of the table, pulls a chair out for him. “Please,” she says. “Let’s eat.”