Chapter 46

~~Day 66~~

~~David~~

Daoka clicked in his face and poked him with a claw. Someone had, apparently, ratted him out. A quick glance at the grinning Caera announced her betrayal.

“You could have at least woken us,” Jes said, getting up off the pile of silk blankets.

“I think Acelina wanted to do something a little ... private,” he said.

“With the other spire mothers?”

“Kinda?”

Daoka clicked some more, frowning, got behind him, and hugged him. Hard. Her breastplate dug into his back, and he winced and half squeaked, but she didn’t let him go. Death by bear hug.

Jes got up in his face and poked him in the forehead. “Your owner isn’t happy.”

“Sorry! Sorry. Acelina sounded like she really wanted—”

“Yeah yeah, I get it. Dao understands, too.”

Daoka sighed, chirped, and rubbed her cheek on the top of his head.

The Las joined in, clicking and whining, and a few of them punched David in the leg. Gently. Tiny as they were, they were stronger than humans by a decent margin, but they were smart enough to not break his legs as they frowned up at him.

“I think Acelina wants to leave it at that,” Caera said. “You know what she’s like. Lilith forbid she ever relax around the group for half a second. But she relaxed with the other spire mothers, so, it was a good goodbye.” Nodding, Caera stepped closer on all fours and nudged her head between Dao and David, saving him from asphyxiation. “Let’s get ready. Who knows what Azailia’s gonna do. I’m guessing she’ll try and trick David into staying.”

“Perhaps,” Moriah said. “But Azailia has been known to be direct in the past.” Right, Moriah probably had learned some history about what the spires had been up to the past century or ten.

“Whatever it is,” David said, “we’ll deal, right? We got a powerful angel with us.”

Moriah glared at him. “Do you mock me?”

“What? No.” Uh oh.

“I am still missing a wing, fool.” She aimed her shoulder with the missing wing toward him. The second wing was still a stub, not even a meter long, underdeveloped and snug against her back. “And this shoulder...” She rotated the bad shoulder. Just watching proved it wasn’t in good shape. He’d seen people favor a shoulder like that before, ones who’d had nasty dislocations that meant permanent issues. “My body spends every waking moment repairing the damage of hellfire, and you expect me to—”

Jes smacked Moriah in the ass with her tail. Everyone froze. Moriah sucked in a hard hiss and readied a nuclear salvo, and Jes put up her hands.

“We get it. The rider fucked you up. But we’ve all been there, beaten to fuck, injured and broken, and still found a way to make shit work. And hey, you’re an angel. Even half an angel is stronger than most demons, right? Calm the fuck down.”

Cue the glaring match. Everyone took a step back, and Moriah and Jes took a step toward each other. Sure, Jes was a great fighter. A gargoyle who knew how to kill and knew it well, working as one of Zel’s enforcers. But the chances a gorgala could beat a one-winged angel in a fight were pretty damn small.

Moriah took a deep breath, stretched out her good wing, and nodded.

“Very well.”

Jes smiled. “Great. Thought I was gonna have to kick your ass for a second there.”

David braced for an explosion. None came. Moriah rolled her eyes and stepped away.

“I am well enough to use batlam and fight, at least somewhat,” she said. “But I cannot fly.”

“None of us can fly,” Caera said.

“An angel relies on flight for superiority. Maneuverability is key.”

Daoka nodded and clicked, but gestured around, picked up a piece of armor, and put it back on. No one had completely removed their armor, and the translation was clear: time to get ready.

They did. Everyone put back on what pieces of armor they’d taken off, checked their weapons, wings, hooves, and got ready by the door. Acelina had closed it for them, and someone had to open it.

Someone did. Azailia returned, with Timaeus, Laoko, and her right hand Silvain, and at least forty demons. No, wait, more. Some were from Timaeus’s group, but plenty of others David had never seen; not that he was good at telling demons apart, but they sure looked new. Brutes and vrats and gargoyles, a tiger, and a satyr. All wore armor, bent chunks of black metal on random body parts, held to limbs by leather straps. All stared at David and Moriah like they were dangerous-but-delicious meals.

The new demons weren’t just regular demons. They had more pieces of armor. Some had trophies hanging off belts. All wore more armor than the typical demon. Even the brutes, who usually went naked, had a few pieces of armor on them.

“Hello, my dear guests,” Azailia said, smiling.

Jes snarled and stood in the front of the group. “That’s a lot of demons to say hello.”

Caera crept closer, got on David’s side, and stayed there, tail deadly still behind her.

Azailia nodded. “Indeed. They are some of my best enforcers, and they will join you across the border. They will take you to the Scar all the way to Tarkissa, assuming Tarkissa’s bailiffs do not give you trouble.”

Daoka joined David’s other side and clicked once into his ear. Again, no need for a translation. He didn’t trust any of that.

“We going now?” Caera asked.

“After the feast. You must cross the Dead Lands and the Amisius Forest to reach the border of the Scar. And while there are pockets of activity where souls are frequently dumped, you must travel between them. We should eat before you go.” She smiled, soft face wielding a scalpel of a little grin, and she gestured for them to follow.

David looked at Laoko. Normally, the tetrad had her own little smiles and grins, but not this time. She frowned slightly, eyes pointed down in classic thinking mode, but she met David’s gaze for a moment, and her frown only grew. But she followed her ruler.

Moriah sucked in a slow breath and stepped out in front. Demons backed away, nudging each other to get out of her path. They hadn’t expected the one-winged angel to go first, especially without her armor, but Moriah marched on like she could incinerate every demon around her if they so much as looked at her wrong. She was smaller than every one of them, and yet, bigger.

Jes traded a surprised glance with Dao. Dao shrugged, and followed her. Everyone else followed, too, the Las taking the back and huddling together close to Caera’s tail.

They went up a couple floors, and everyone, all sixty or seventy of them, stepped into a giant room of metal walls with flesh pulsating between ribs. Not nearly as much flesh as down in the hatching pits or lower, but enough flesh the room smelled of blood. And in the center of the room, a large section of the floor was wet muscle, slowly beating, and a pile of hearts waited to be eaten.

“Come, eat,” Azailia said. “I cannot join you on your journey, but Laoko and Silvain will.”

“Not Timaeus?” Jes asked, marched up to the pile, and took a heart from the top. Maybe she wanted to show off her ego, or be strong and commanding like Moriah. Either way, she didn’t even glance back. Rude. David followed suit. If David had waited, or asked for permission to eat, that would have been showing weakness. He took a heart, too.

Moriah joined them, filtered through the hearts, and found a large one that couldn’t have come from a human. She devoured it quickly. Maybe demon hearts were affecting her, because she was getting more comfortable eating them, and not being squeamish about it, either. She ripped through the flesh with her teeth all too much like a demon, and stared around at the other demons who slowly approached the pile like hungry pack animals, waiting for their turn.

Dao and Caera got their own hearts, but Caera also played caretaker and gave the Las a heart each. They cheered. It wasn’t every day the Las got a whole heart for each, tiny as they were.

Laoko smiled at the little ladies and fetched a heart, too.

“It’s a long journey to the Scar,” she said. “But we must leave quickly before the rider attacks. Two days was probably too long a stay.”

“Can he assault a spire solo?” David asked. “Last time he attacked a spire, he had a giant hellbeast and a couple dozen demons in aera armor with it. I mean, if he comes in alone, can you capture him?”

“Many have tried,” Azailia said. “No one has captured the rider. He always escapes. No matter how many demons come at him, he always survives. But he is a wild animal, chasing whatever scent catches his interest. That scent is you, so it is best you stay on the move.” She folded her four arms across her chest, and her tail flicked once to the side. “Not that I cannot fend off the rider if I have to, but I would prefer to not waste demons on a pointless affair.”

“So Timaeus is going back?” Jes asked, and she threw the huge tetrad a squinting eye along with a small flap of her wings. He returned the eye squint, and the wing flap, grinned, and swallowed down a heart.

“Yes,” Azailia said. “Ultimately, we decided he cannot leave his district for too long. Factions war and cause chaos without a shepherd to punish their misdeeds. You understand. Laoko will be your guide, as will Silvain.”

The group looked at Silvain. Somehow, despite how similar he looked to Timaeus, a ten-foot demon with a tail, dinosaur feet, giant wings, and four enormous black horns, he looked considerably meaner. Maybe it was just the stoic attitude, but David immediately put him on the ‘do not trust’ list.

They ate, David’s group, and everyone else. No one looked comfortable with each other. The brutes, in particular, looked at Moriah and David like they wanted a fight. Sure, Moriah could win that fist fight, but David couldn’t, not inside the spire. Once they were out on the road, he’d feel more comfortable, but right now the tension felt like a wire ready to snap.

Nothing happened. Everyone ate and went down to the ground floor. David snuck some glances with Caera and Jes, and they both shrugged. Moriah couldn’t stop glaring at the demons, daring them to try something; subtle, she was not. But no demon so much as got close to them.

They stood in the spire’s entrance where the fog pooled. First out went Silvain, then David and his group, and then Laoko and her demon entourage. A lot of demons, ready for battle, ready to protect David and the group on their perilous journey.

Yeah right. What the fuck was going on?

Another fifty demons waited for them, all wearing armor.

“Uh...” David tilted his head.

“You must be protected,” Azailia said. “A force this size will give the rider pause, at least.”

“You’re announcing our location,” Moriah said.

“Hardly. Unlike angels, we do not need the sky to move silently. Make the effort to remain hidden, and the fog will hide you. Or did you not think there are forces of similar size between you and your goal?” Azailia shrugged and folded her four arms across her huge chest. “I know my province well. There are dozens of groups that could attack you, and no angel testing the fog could separate them from yours at a glance. You will be hiding in plain sight, in a sense.”

It was like medieval Europe, or ancient Greece, or ancient China, or ... lots of places, now that he thought about it. Small, warring states, who treated combat like a natural part of life. And they were going to pretend to be one of those states, just nomadic?

“My warriors,” Silvain said, shot a hard glare at David over his shoulder, and gestured to his troops with a flick of his tail. “Respect them.”

David glared right back. Showing weakness wasn’t allowed, and he marched forward after the tetrad like he wasn’t scared at all.

He was fucking terrified. It was so many demons, all glaring at him, red eyes piercing the fog, all twitching their claws or scraping said claws across the nigh blunt edges of their swords and axes. If they jumped him, the best he could do was summon his armor on the spot and maybe block an attack. In a brawl, he was fucked. He needed distance, and having an entourage of nearly a hundred demons he didn’t trust was the opposite of healthy distance.

A brute gently thudded the tip of their stupidly enormous sword on the ground. David knew why no demon bothered with spears or halberds. The fuck was the point in killing someone if you didn’t get to feel the splitting of flesh or the breaking of bone under the weight of your swing? It was a wonder none of them used giant hammers, so they could feel a skull crush the way a rock could crush.

He looked down at his hands and squeezed them. He knew that sensation. It wasn’t a good sensation.

Taking a deep breath, he walked forward, and his girls followed. A look back showed Azailia watching, and she slowly disappeared behind a veil of god, grin unending.

He already missed Acelina.

“Laoko,” he said once they had some distance, “you trust these demons?” He didn’t whisper.

“I trust Azailia.”

He frowned up at her over his shoulder. That wasn’t what he asked, but it was a clear enough answer. No, she didn’t, not really.

Moriah cracked her knuckles and marched on ahead of the group. Jes hopped after her, and Dao behind her. David walked with Caera, Las around him, and Laoko followed directly behind David. Silvain stayed in front, and the nearly hundred demons working for him and Azailia circled the group.

Entourage, or prison guards.

They began the march. Other demons watched, younger ones, smaller ones, some perching on metal pillars that stuck out of the ground, and some gathered in groups, imps and grems that stared with wide eyes. The Las waved.

“The rider is going to find us,” Jes said. She slowed down and walked with Laoko instead, directly behind David. “This is way too big a group.”

“Azailia knows what she’s doing,” Laoko said. “These are many of her best enforcers. Some are centuries old.”

They looked it. Some brutes had scars, not a common sight; demons usually healed. Plenty of them had trophies on their belts, or hanging off chest or back straps. One gorgala who might have had a century or two on Jes had tiny bones hanging off her wings’ fingers at the claw. He had no idea if that meant she was a better fighter than Jes, but it certainly gave him reason to keep the woman in sight.

They gave him his space. With him in the back and Moriah up front, the demons didn’t get close, most on the edge of the fog with only Silvain truly directly in front.

They managed an entire hour before trouble started.

“Silvain,” Moriah said. “Go further up.”

The tetrad turned and growled down at the angel. Yeah, he was a lot grumpier than his fellow tetrad, and he flared his wings and turned, full stop.

“Do not give me orders.”

David checked behind them. The spire was out of sight, all buried in fog, and Azailia wasn’t around to play referee.

“It wasn’t an order. It was a threat. I do not want you near me. So you will stay good and far away, or I will smite you down.” Moriah stepped closer. “Understood?”

Silvain glared down at the angel. She was shy of seven feet tall, and had one wing. Silvain was ten feet tall, with two enormous wings, bulging muscles, four enormous horns, and a demony skull-ish face showing off his many teeth. He made her look irrelevant.

She stepped closer, and he growled and braced. What would Mia say? His pride was on the line, and if he backed down, he’d have a bunch of demons questioning his authority.

He made a good show of being big and scary, but after a long staring match, he snorted, turned, and followed his fellow demons deeper into the fog, giving Moriah and the gang more space.

“That girl,” Laoko said, “is going to be trouble.”

They created three groups. David’s group, Laoko’s group, and Silvain’s group. Silvain’s took the front, David’s in the middle, Laoko’s in the back, and they all found places to hide for twilight hours. Problematically, there weren’t any good places to hide. But with a hundred demons, the group was bold enough to find empty areas to sit and get ready for sleep.

Black dirt with hundreds of white pebbles, all broken off the enormous white tombstones sticking up from the ground. A single mausoleum stood nearby, so David and the girls took it. It didn’t have a basement, but the room was large enough, tall walls with shelves stacked full of black skulls. A couple real ones, too.

They sat in the big, empty room of sculpted death, and huddled close.

“Anticlimactic,” David said.

“Yeah,” Jes said. “I expected to have to fight our way out of there.”

“We’re surrounded,” Caera said. “Fighting our way out is still a possibility.”

David traced the black stone floor with a finger. “I can fight out here. I can use the music, like I did with the rider.”

Caera grumbled. “Last time you did that, you fainted.”

“I feel better about it, this time. Getting better at playing the music.”

“Good enough to take on a hundred demons? From all sides? While we’re in the fight?”

He winced. “Probably not. But maybe we can change that? If we just kinda ... get ourselves in a different position, maybe we can—”

A clopping hooves sound outside shut him up. Laoko poked her head around the entrance of the mausoleum, and smiled at the group.

“La!” The Las said. They hopped up from playing in their corner, ran through the group, and jumped around Laoko’s legs in a circle. “La! La!”

Laoko smiled and patted each of their heads once, each with a different hand.

“You four are terribly cute, far cuter than most imps and grems I have dealt with. What is your secret?” She squatted down and tugged on their wings and tails.

The Las giggled and hopped around some more.

“Las older than most imps and grems,” Lasca said, and she poked her temple. “Smart.”

David choked down a laugh.

“Laoko,” Caera said, “visiting?”

“Of course. I wanted to see how you were fairing.”

“You,” Jes said, “just wanted to make sure we were still around, and not plotting some way to escape.”

Laoko frowned, stood in the mausoleum entrance, and leaned against the side, upper arms folded across her breastplate, lower on her hips.

“Why would you want to escape? I promised you we would see Azailia, and she would help you with your journey. Is this not help?”

Daoka shook her head and gestured at the walls and beyond them.

But Lao shook her head harder. “They’re not your jailers. They’re—”

“And you promised us to tell us more about you.” Jes slapped the floor with her tail. “We seemed to skip that part. So if you wanna sit and chat with us again, how about you tell us a little more about yourself, miss Azailia’s favorite?”

That was a good point. In all the changes and commotion, David had forgotten. He looked at Caera and Dao, but both looked up at Lao, waiting. They were on board with forcing her to speak.

Laoko growled, but sat down by the door and leaned back with palms behind her against the floor.

“I am old. I helped Azailia take this tower during the Spire’s War.”

“Fuck,” Jes said. “That is old.”

“Yes. Back then, tetrads were far more common, and children of the Old Ones were not extinct. Battles were ... extreme.” She gestured to her throat. “I could not breathe hellfire then. That came with age.”

“So you were a part of the biggest war Hell’s ever seen,” Jes said, “since Cain’s war?”

“Yes. Azailia, myself, and many other tetrads cooperated and fought for control of the Grave Valley.”

“Teleius,” David said.

“Yes.” She frowned, looking down. “And others, over the centuries.”

“Why’d you leave the spire?” Jes asked. “Sounds like you and Azailia were close.”

“I met a man.”

Jes choked on a laugh. “Wait, you’re serious?”

“Yes. Angels came to investigate the aftermath of the Spires War, and once they realized Azailia was no child of the Old Ones, capable of uniting all of Hell, they let us be. I got to know some of those angels, and...” She smiled, looked down, and twisted to sit in that classic feminine sit-on-hip way. “The gabriem were interested in us. They wanted to know why we were so insistent on fighting each other. The rapholem and mikalim, not so much. But the gabriem asked questions, and I answered.”

“You,” Moriah said from the opposite end of the room, “spoke with angels?”

“Yes, or at least, the gabriem. And over the centuries, gabriem have visited the Grave Valley and spoken with me and others. Sometimes we had sex. Gabriem are very talented.” Nodding, she traced one of her many claws down a leg. “But they also enjoyed talking with us, learning about us, and I learned about them.”

David tilted his head. “You got along with angels?”

“Yes. They are not so different from us. Yes, demons crave violence, but we still have many similarities. We are ... different from humans, in a way humans will never understand, but angels do.”

Jes had said similar. Gulping, David snuck a glance Caera’s way, but if Laoko’s words affected her, she didn’t show it, gaze still on the tetrad and waiting for more.

“And,” Laoko said, “you could say I lost the taste for conquest, because of those conversations.”

Moriah snorted. “I find that hard to believe.”

“Do you? Is it so hard to believe that gabriem, who devote their lives to helping souls overcome the scars of their surface life, could instill a change of thought in a demon?”

“Yes, it is hard to believe.”

Laoko sighed and shook her head, and her long dreadlocks gently bounced around her shoulders.

“I have befriended many angels in my lifetime, if only briefly. The last angel I met, decades ago, was one angel named Liel. He had friends with him, Galon and Symons, and the three of us were friends. Liel and I even shared ... a close friendship, mentally, emotionally, and physically.”

Moriah stood up straight. “You knew Galon? Of Avinoam?”

“Yes, in passing. He was a funny man, always making jokes, always flirting. He slept with many demons from my and Teleius’s group. I spent many nights laughing with him. Did you know him as well?”

Someone might as well have kicked Moriah in the stomach. She glared at Laoko, but looked away and squeezed her fists hard.

“My point is,” Laoko said, “that is why I am ... content, to not help Azailia in her inevitable wars with the other spires. I need not engage in battle every moment of my life.” She leaned forward and tapped the center of the floor with her claws. “Could I be a spire ruler, if I strove to be? Perhaps. So could Timaeus, or Silvain. But that life does not interest me anymore. I cannot summarize centuries of spontaneous visits from angels in this conversation, but yes, that is why I am the way I am.”

Talk about introspective. Either Laoko had herself figured out, or she was delusional. But it was a classic story, someone from another world bringing fresh views to a different group. Historically, those ideas often ended with the visitor getting decapitated, but that wasn’t so easy to do to an angel.

“I believe you,” David said. “I mean, I don’t know if that’s saying much. I’m not the best judge of character. But I believe you.”

Caera nodded. “It fits. We found you out alone with your friend Teleius, and Azailia treats you like a sister. You could have stayed with her.”

“This is absurd,” Moriah said. “Do we seriously believe this bolstara tetrad, a being thousands of years old, has become less a violent, bloodthirsty creature, because she’s spoken with angels?”

“Angels ever try to do that?” Jes asked. “I mean, come down and make a big show of diplomacy for all the spires? Chat us up, make friends? Maybe get Heaven and Hell on better terms officially?”

“Of course not. Thanks to Lucifer, Hell is an abomination, poisoned and tainted. Demons were never supposed to exist. This land was meant to purify souls before they are returned to the Great Tower, but demons use it like leeches, feeding off the cycle of souls to become powerful, always with the goal of piercing Heaven and Earth to eat their full. Monsters.”

Laoko glared at the angel and dragged her claws across the stone. “What else do I need to do to prove I am not trying to betray you all?”

“I—” David got halfway into a word before Dao stood up.

Clicking up a storm, Daoka squatted beside Laoko.

“It’s not the same,” Moriah said. “You are not a tetrad, Daoka. Tetrads are powerful, and capable bringing war. They thrive on conflict. They—”

Daoka clicked some more, a string of noises that almost had David wincing. She shook her head, sat down beside Laoko, and patted the woman’s thigh.

“I think,” Jes said to Moriah, “angels like you should get their sticks out of their asses, and maybe think the gabriem were onto something? Maybe not all demons are the monsters you think we are?”

“Galon was not right!”

Glass shattered. Everyone traded glances.

“You knew Galon well?” Laoko asked.

“I...” Clenching her fists again, Moriah leaned back against the wall, let her body drag until she sat ass to floor, and hugged her knees to her chest.

The Las stared at her, tilted their heads, and approached, but Dao chirped at them and gently tugged on their wings. Message clear: leave the angel be.

“Considering everything that’s happened,” Caera said, “I vote we give Laoko a chance.”

The tetrad smiled and waited.

“Five Las!” Lasca said, and she flapped her wings.

Daoka clicked twice and gestured to David.

David put up his hands. “I’ll take any help we can get. I thought Timaeus was coming with us, too. Guy seemed nice enough.”

“He is,” Laoko said. “I am ... not sure why Azailia dismissed him. It is true bailiffs serve a purpose. They are strong enough to keep the small wars between the many factions of the Grave Valley from growing unwieldy.”

“Like Death’s Grip,” Jes said. “Diogo, the annoying fucker, stepped in frequently to shove groups around if they got too uppity and slaughtered each other.”

“Yes. The provinces need to be strong. Fighting amongst ourselves and culling the weak breeds strength, but only to a point.” Laoko looked back over her shoulder, out the mausoleum door to the graveyard and fog beyond. “But that does not mean he could not have left for some time, and returned later. I wonder why Azailia insisted he return immediately.” Silence was her answer. “We have avoided factions so far, but I am sure we will run into some on the way. We will avoid many, but the journey will take longer. Two weeks to reach the border of the Scar.”

David sighed. “Sounds like each province takes a month to cross.”

“The Red Pits and Navameere fields will take longer.”

He winced. “Mia will reach False Gate long before we do.”

“Maybe,” Laoko said. “But regardless, I will help you on this journey as much as I can. When we arrive at the Scar, Silvain and his demons will escort us to Tarkissa of the Scar and—”

“Can’t we just ... not?” Jes asked. “I’d rather we avoid meeting every spire ruler on the way.”

And David agreed with her. If every spire ruler they ran into was a potential opportunity for someone to betray them, it’d happen eventually.

“You think,” Laoko said, “that every spire ruler is so shortsighted, they think it’d be better to eat the boy, perhaps gain immediate power, than save us all from annihilation?”

“I think it’s a possibility,” Jes said. She looked Moriah’s way and waited, but whatever was bothering the angel kept her from joining in. “Whatever allows us to sneak around better, I’d rather do. We got angels on our asses, too, and the rider.”

They all peeked out the door, and listened. No clop of goort hooves, or clink of metal armor.

“Azailia has decided against that,” Laoko said. “This group will take you to Tarkissa.”

“And we if decide to go on our own?” Caera asked.

“I...” Laoko tilted her head, eying them. “I suppose Silvain would try to stop you. It’s his mission to escort you.”

The group traded glances again. Suspicious. Not Laoko, who seemed honest enough, but Silvain and Azailia weren’t.

“Another question,” David said. “Acelina. You seemed like you knew her more than she realized.”

“I didn’t, except what you know. I met her when she was a child, many centuries ago.”

He tilted his head. “You uh ... you seemed kinda...”

Laoko grinned. “When I lived in the spire, I spent much time with the spire mothers. Can you blame me?”

Caera and David glanced each other’s way. Nope.

~~Day 67~~

~~Mia~~

“The idea is absurd,” Julisa said.

Mia laughed, riding Kas’s back beside the tetrad. “Tell me about it.”

“And you’re forced to wear ... cotton sticks inside you?”

It took every bit of willpower she had to not burst out laughing. “I mean, yeah? You never noticed that in the scrying pools?”

“If this only lasts for several days a month, why bother?”

“Because otherwise I’d stain my clothes with blood?”

Julisa snorted. “They are your clothes to stain.”

“True, but anything I was sitting on would get bloody, too.” She put up her hands. “Girls on the surface do everything we can to hide the fact we’re mammals.”