My heart leaps in my chest when I see the lizog’s nostrils opening and closing in quick pants. The creature is unable to move, as brought low by the stamina poison as Kalanthia was. It’s not in as much danger as she was, though, since the poison only works on stamina already present – we didn’t have the ingredients to incorporate the second poison which works on stamina regeneration. It will recover as soon as the poison fades from its system. That’s why we had to deal with the rest of them with a blade through their throats, hearts, or brains. But is that really what I should do here?

My automatic response is to trigger Dominate: I wanted to do it the last time, but the only lizog which survived the landslide had had its eyes destroyed. Apparently Dominate doesn’t work without eyes to gaze into. Which, actually, thinking about it, is a bit of a downside to the Skill if facing an enemy that doesn’t have eyes. Like that tentacled monster, the memory of which never fails to send a shiver down my spine.

Before initiating a Battle of Wills with this helpless lizog, though, I run through a mini moral checklist of whether it would be right to do so. Did this lizog attack me? Well, not me personally, necessarily, but that was more through lack of opportunity than intention. I’ll count that as a ‘yes’. Would a lizog fulfil a useful role? Given their extremely strong sense of smell, bone-crushing jaws, and clearly heightened Constitution and stamina, I’m going to say ‘yes’. Would this creature be in a worse position if I don’t Dominate it? Again, I’m going to say a ‘yes’ here too.

Even if we decided not to kill it, it’s a pack animal that doesn’t have a pack. I don’t know for sure, but most animals in that situation on Earth find life difficult. Besides, it’s not like I could heal it of the poison, so I’d be leaving it paralysed in a space which stinks of blood and death. And even if it survived that, what are the chances that it would follow our scent? No, I think offering it a Bond is probably the best option for everyone at this point. If I can’t convince it, that’s its choice and I’ll leave it here.

Moral principles satisfied, I place the lizog down on the ground, sitting down myself. I carefully don’t think about what gunk might be getting on my trousers: like most of my clothes, they’re little more than rags by this point.

Watch over me, would you? I ask River. I may be out for a bit. With his agreement coming over the Bond, I stare into the lizog’s eyes and activate Dominate.

As always, the edges of my vision fade into fog, the only aspects still in colour being the lizog and myself. A pressure presses down from above, just as another tries to keep us apart. What is surprising this time is how little pressure there is. The force impacting me from above is, frankly, negligible, and the block between the lizog and me is almost non-existent. I sense that I could just stride across and force my Will on the lizog with little more difficulty than strolling down a street. Is this the effect of my increased Willpower? It must be.

I don’t. Just stride over and force the lizog into a Bond, that is. Being able to do something doesn’t mean that one should; I’ve had to learn that already. I do start walking towards the lizog, but once I’ve got close enough to initiate a dialogue, I pause. Interestingly, I feel the connection form far faster than ever before. Is this another effect of my increased stats, or is this something particular to the lizog? Or is it as a result of my Dominate ranking up? Honestly, all of the differences I’ve noticed could be to do with that too.

Pushing that to the side, I take some time to pay attention to what the lizog is communicating to me. Fear, is the first emotion. Understandable. We killed the rest of its pack and have made it a prisoner in its own body. It’s not surprising that helplessness is strongly present too. Hunger. Pain. And...something else. I can’t quite work out what it is, but I can tell that it’s a lot more positive than any of the others. There’s also a hint of peace, calmness. Is this what the rank-up message for Dominate meant when it talked about calming and pacifying strong emotions as long as I’m calm? Either way, hopefully it will make this negotiation easier.

“Would you like to join me?” I ask the lizog, continuing to walk forwards slowly. The fact that this is not a physical space appears to mean that my damaged vocal cords aren’t causing a problem for me here. Not giving the lizog a chance to respond, I start my recruitment spiel. “We will be stronger together, working as a pack. I can offer you the opportunity to become stronger individually too, to face powerful foes and come out the victor.” Pausing for a moment to feel out how the lizog is responding to my offer so far, I’m surprised at an immediate answer.

Yes, the lizog seems to say, its aura shifting from fear to eagerness. I’m rather taken aback. That’s a quick turn-around.

“You want to join us?” I ask, stalling for time. Is it playing some sort of game? Pretending to give in only to betray us later, or something.

A moment later when it responds, I realise that I’m anthropomorphising far too much. Just like with Bastet at the start, I’m ascribing human reactions to a creature that definitely isn’t. Instead of a clear and direct thought like it sent me before, this time I’m hit with a deluge of emotions and images to explain its previous acceptance.

It shows me lizogs tussling as pups, the winners getting first dibs at the food. Then, later as adults, fights once more establish the pecking order, determining access to food, but also to any coveted amenity. Even mates: only the lizog at the head of the pack is allowed to mate with any female they come across, the other lizogs being relegated to fetching food for the alpha as he waits for the resulting eggs to hatch.

I get the sense that males in the pack owe their loyalty to the strongest. The hierarchy changes whenever the alpha becomes weak or vulnerable in some way: sickness, injury, old age. He opens himself up to a challenge and the victor of the challenge will become, or remain, the alpha.

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Apparently, thanks to having defeated all comers, I have taken the position of ‘alpha’ in his mind. But then why the sudden change of emotions? My thoughts must communicate themselves to him as the lizog quickly responds.

You were an enemy. Now, you are pack. The accompanying images and emotions add a little more depth to his succinct explanation. Apparently lizogs have some sort of connection with others of the same species, female or male, same pack or different. I would have guessed it to be some smell, considering their impressive scent abilities, but given that he’s now identifying me as another lizog, I have to conclude that it’s some mental connection. Or soul. Or aura. Whatever.

If one pack of lizogs intrudes on another one’s territory, there’s an obvious reaction: the two alphas fight, the other lizogs often having their own battles alongside. If the fight is inconclusive, the invading pack will return to their own territory and lick their wounds. If one of the alphas is the clear winner, the other’s pack will be absorbed into the winner’s. The survivors, anyway: territorial battles are bloody, dangerous affairs.

In the lizog’s mind, this is exactly what has happened. Although he didn’t identify me as a lizog before, he does now, and so he easily rationalises the last few minutes. We, another pack of lizogs, invaded his pack’s territory. There was a fight, and all the other lizogs except for him were killed. He himself was completely subdued. Clearly, that makes us the dominant pack, and as I am the alpha of the winning pack, he owes me his loyalty.

His reasoning seems a little flawed to my mind, but clearly that’s how his kind works. How he identified me as the leader, I don’t know – because I hold River and Bastet’s Bonds? Can he sense that kind of thing? I try to ask, but he just sends me a sense of power. I choose to move on and work out if I’m going to accept his willing, no, eager surrender.

It feels like it should be obvious – the creature isn’t fighting against me, heck, if anything he’s almost throwing himself at me. Even the pressure between us has completely disappeared; in fact, it almost feels like there’s a vacuum pulling me in. But at the same time, I have to work out whether introducing a creature which clearly needs to have a rigid hierarchy into the mix is a good idea.

In the end, I just mentally shrug. If it doesn’t work out, I’ll release the Bond. The lizog shouldn’t be any worse off than he would be if I just left him here.

“OK,” I say finally. “I accept your fealty.” Unlike before where the other side has had to make a gesture of submission for the Battle to end, in this case it seems to be my agreement which is required. The space returns back to normal, very little disorientation accompanying the transition this time. Interesting.

Bastet, River, I say, climbing to my feet while cursing my vocal cords when they just croak a little instead of allowing me to form words, meet your new pack-mate. I gesture at the still-prone lizog. Another one which will need a name. I’m less tired coming out of that than I have been before at the end of a Battle of Wills, which is fortunate: I’m completely exhausted from everything else. And so are the others. Bastet is looking a little better, the rest doing her good, but River’s shoulders are slumped and his movements sluggish. They take a moment to send a greeting down the Bond, though. Since they can’t contact each other directly, I have to pass on the greetings, but the lizog responds with an eager brightness he’s unable to express in his body language.

Actually, thinking about it, I suppose that the fact that I’m croaking is a good sign that I’m starting to heal: I couldn’t even make a squeak before. On that note, what is my health? I take a moment to glance down at the bars – it seems that when I intend on looking at my body resources, the bars stay still so I can focus on them; at all other times, they shift like they’re locked into the corner of my vision.

Funny how I’ve got used to always having them there, now. My health is back up to around sixty points. I say ‘back up’ because what with the increased Energy-poisoning beside the Pure Energy stream and the lizog chewing at my leg, I’d been yo-yoing between fifty points and thirty. At least the healing I managed to give my leg pulled me up from that low.

The last two corpses being shoved into my Inventory along with my now unneeded torch, I think we’re ready to move. I know we need to rest – we really, really, need to rest – but a battle site isn’t the best place.

Come on, guys, I say, attempting enthusiasm but rather falling flat. We just need to find somewhere safe enough to rest and then we’ll sleep. Then it’ll be the last stretch home. Actually, I need to work out where we are. As my Bound trudge over to me, followed by Lathani and the cubs, the only ones with any energy among us, I open up my Map.

I’m grateful that we haven’t gone completely in the wrong direction, though we didn’t exactly go straight home either. We must have gone underneath the majority of the vine-strangler forest as we’re off to the north-east of the eye-shaped mass. Based on the distance, I reckon that it will be a day of hard travel to get back to Kalanthia’s den, but definitely achievable. Once we’ve slept, that is.

Looking down at my newest addition to our crew, I realise that he’s not going anywhere right now, the poison still holding him under its thrall. Sighing to myself, I lean down and pick him up. He’s probably about two or three times the mass of the pit bull he partially resembles, but I’m significantly stronger than I was on Earth so it barely registers. In fact, I can easily tuck him under one arm, leaving the other free for a weapon. I mean, I’m hoping that I can go more than ten minutes without a fight, but past experience has often proven otherwise.

We head towards the end of the tunnel, Bastet having to chivy the cubs along from where they’ve stopped to lick at a lump of spilled offal. Tasty, not. The feeling I get from both Bound is that they are completely done with this underground experience. I can empathise.

The sound of bird song has never been as musical as it sounds to my ears now. The scent of the forest has never been as rich. I squint in the light, even the dappled forest light overwhelming to my dark-adapted eyes. All my companions are having the same issue. Apart from the lizog, of course, but he can’t do much, still poisoned as he is.

As we take our first steps back out into the above world, a cry rings out as a shadow passes over us.