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When he managed to sit up, Jabber was scrabbling in the dirt. Something was off about his- Three fingers on his left hand were bare.
Zanka’s blood ran cold, and he instantly threw himself to his knees, hands spread out, patting the damp soil. Bits of loam stuck and clung to his fingers. There—something hard—three little silver columns. No, nine. Three stacks of three. Little silver loops in the wet black dirt.
He plucked them up—hooking the tip of his index finger through each set so they wouldn’t separate—and uselessly tried to shake them clean, dropping them all into his left palm, stack by stack. Clinking against each other.
Jabber’s head shot up, and he looked at Zanka like a normal person might if their intestines were wrapped around his fingers. Wide pink-purple eyes luminous, fixed on Zanka’s palm.
“Hey man. Whatchu want?” he said, sounding friendly like he always did at first. Showed off his sharp white canine teeth in an odd, wobbly grin. Added something breathy and coquettish to his voice. “I’ll give it to ya. I’ll let you have it. I can be real nice. Just-”
Like a starving wolf in sheep’s clothing, smiling and slobbering for the camera. Oh hell no. Zanka chucked his handful of metal at Jabber’s face.
Fast as you could blink, Jabber snatched the pieces from the air. Opened his hands and blew gently over his palms. A fleck of leaf litter fluttered away and landed on the side of his leg, on his mud-stained pants, where it stuck to the fabric. Silently, Zanka watched him wipe out the inside of each ring with the pad of his index finger, cleaning his finger on his sleeves and belt sash. One by one, he slipped them all back on, then curled his hands up and pressed each knuckle to his mouth. Brushed each metal stack against his lips.
“You dumb as hell, Mr. Bad Attitude,” he mumbled, round eyes peeking out at Zanka over the backs of his hands.
Zanka scoffed and looked to the side. “Yer dumb as hell. Didya forget we’re-” the same. The same river of madness runs through us both, brings our souls to life in our hands- “I’m a Giver, too?”
“It don’t matter,” said Jabber, already sounding way too cheerful for Zanka’s liking, eyes sparkling like a town from on high. “You still dumb as hell.” Anima swelled around his face, and there-!
“SERIOUSLY?!” Lovely Assistaff narrowly whacked Mankira out of the way before she pierced Zanka’s cheek.
“Now this is more like it,” said Jabber, laughing breathlessly, inches away from Zanka’s face. And, yeah, Zanka had to agree.