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The Burning Sky #6
I took a few steps forward on instinct, and it stopped moving its parts. I halted, and it moved restlessly. When I turned and took a few steps back to the Penelope, a flash of light blinded me, and I dropped it. Thank the gods for the goggles—it only took me a moment or two to blink my sight back, as the beastie scraped and hitched itself in the direction it was determined to go.
The flash of light was not an effective self-defense, but it got the point across.
This way. My way.
Maybe it was returning itself to its owner?