Buried up to your waist in that ball of teeth you dive down quickly. You take the fight to heart of the party - and they eat you alive. A hundred hands and teeth hold you fast in the centre with the other half-gnawed, there to be slowly consumed. A bite in the calf, a thousand in the side.

Over and over, nibbled, sucked, chewed on by teeth in a hundred unseen heads. Beside you, the last indigestibles of a fellow traveller stretched with sinews and viscera wound round its almost meatless skeleton.

Something warm, smooth and infinitely more satisfying than blood poured into your mouth. You strained your neck to find the source, failing. The savage party is broken up by a ball of white arms, that flurry by and then into the night of flesh.

You are free, but around you can feel the party find its parts and begin to join again. You burrow on.