“Get up, Pale-Eyes!” T’cho yelled in his ear. He kicked a pink, exposed rib. It hurt.
“Leave me alone,” Pa’haana said. Again he found it unnecessary to open his mouth to speak.
“Why can’t you do as you are told?!” T’cho said. He slapped Pa’haana. “Useless!”
Pa’haana’s eyes snapped open. *You should not have hit me, T’cho!* Something burst into flame in Pa’haana’s stomach. The fire raced up his throat like scalding vomit. An unseen hand closed over his mouth and kept the vomit from escaping. It filled his head, his skull.
Pa’haana sat up, got his legs under him. He jumped onto the bear’s back, grabbed a handful of fur with his right hand. His left would not work. Maker-of-Ghosts shook himself and Pa’haana fell off, but he jumped up again and this time managed to get his right arm around the beast’s neck. He pulled himself up until he could get both legs wrapped around Maker-of-Ghosts’ neck. He held on tight.
Below him, Tobazhi stared, mouth open.