Doll looks around. It had been focused on this (Hound. A Warhound) body, but it knew that this could have been a mistake. Doll wasn't paying attention, and that was dangerous.

Doll tilts its head. How does it know this place is dangerous? It searches inside itself briefly, but to no avail. Doll knows more things, but Doll doesn't know why it knows more things.

It knows that this is a Dungeon. It knows that this is a Warhound's body. It knows that there are other Dolls. And it knows that if it is found by the things that come into the Dungeon, they will attack and perhaps kill Doll.

Doll shakes its head. Likely kill Doll. Doll may have become a little stronger, but Doll is still very weak. It can't walk very well. It is clumsy. It is much smaller than the Warhounds.

But Doll has a knife. And the knife is sharp. The knife is always sharp, Doll thinks. It doesn't know how it knows this.

And Doll feels its second emotion. Irritation.

It doesn't know enough, and it doesn't know how it knows what it knows. It doesn't like that it doesn't know. Doll looks around.

Four ways. Three ways, Doll thinks. Backwards is uninteresting. But nothing makes any of the three ways look more interesting than any of the others.

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Wait... Doll hears... Clk... Clk... Clk... Clk...

Something is to the right. So Doll will head to the right. Step, step, stumble step... Doll may be clumsy, but it likes the way it walks. The clicking is regular, although it pauses from time to time, slowly getting louder, but Doll is quiet, and Doll is... Is...

Doll gets annoyed. It doesn't know what it is, except for Doll. It sways its knife back and fore, and... Doll sways back and fore.

Ah.

Yes.

Doll is small, and its knife is large. And heavier than Doll. It might want to know how to-

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

Doll got distracted. The clicking was a hound. And while Doll was thinking, it got close. Doll has to move, Doll has to move forwa-

Step step step step STUMBLE.

The Hound leaps at Doll, and, at the worst time, Doll's run toward it becomes too irregular, and it tumbles over its little feet. A roly poly tumble in which its arms are up, and...

A loud yelp, a feeling of resistance, and Doll is pushed back by the pull on its knife. It turns its head around, and-

The Hound has a big gash in it. And it limps, its breath bubbling. It doesn't even do much when Doll gets up too slowly, just half heartedly tries to close the distance. And Doll, without thinking, step step steps, under the suddenly flashing teeth, and swings its knife, its whole body revolving.

And Doll is rewarded by a gush of sticky redness, and the Hound falling to its side, throat torn open.

Doll stumbles its way over to the hound's side, and opens the gash further. It knows it shouldn't cut too deep, or it will hurt the (Magic stone) food.

And once again, it reaches in, grasps its food, and...

...Nothing except a vague feeling of strength.

Doll is irritated. And Doll is confused.

Why didn't the food give it more things?