Oh nice. He yelps softly when it paws him back, just sort of rolling him around like a fucking toy, which is obviously what he is, even if this one doesn't want to chew on him.

Stable as he is now - what the fuck is that supposed to mean. He doesn't want to think about it, doesn't want that answer (how novel). He doesn't feel stable, he feels trapped and helpless and he's so fucking sick of that, he's so sick of this, being indefinitely extended for the apparent amusement of - these creatures. They are the Rift, that's what Daine had said.

"Just let me go," he says, soft and hoarse and desperate. "What do you want?"