Serpent Lake that's not a riot - its a feast (lets eat)

He had no idea how to accommodate whatever batshit world that Drusk was a denizen of -- which he supposed, wasn't so batshit if you considered it for long enough -- where someone would practically nurse you back to health just to drown you without warning.

He grit his teeth, every fiber of instinct within him galvanized to scrabble away from the kid's sharp jaws.

This mind over matter shit was maddening.

His Adam's apple bobbed once, twice, as he looked away in a gesture that he hoped came off as deference, and not as some coded, primeval gesture of war.

Hell am I doing? he muttered to himself. Then, in a louder voice, go ahead, man. Just try and bite me.

A lightbulb sparked to life. Gende? The word came out as almost a question. He had a vague idea of what it meant. Something to do with teeth. Maybe not the smartest thing to say while one was lying down belly-up.