Tendrils searched and found nothing but the crocodile's unyielding armored skin and more to be furious about as the thoughts poured in, unchecked, impossible to guard against. It was littered with nonsense and it was quick to assert the notion unto itself, unto the girl who wondered in the ebbs and flows of pain that came with even the slightest motion.

What does it mean?

The Nightcap withdrew its efforts to controlling the croc by force and reasserted its control on its host, sending arms and needles over to seek out weak flesh and pierce it as before. Only this time, said croc was far too lucid and the Darkov far too battered; one arm couldn't even lift higher than her chin, and those needles crumbled to dust without ever finding a target.

Still, it struggled, twisting and twitching to snatch, swipe, stab, or scratch anything it could in its blind, face-up search.