Baramak
There were eyes, wet eyes, a great many of them, large and small, dotted across a body of indeterminate shape and size. Everything shifted from one moment to the next, texture, form and colour. She saw limbs, a great many of them, but she could not count them. Sometimes hooked claws poked through the bars of the cage, and sometimes something softer oozed slowly through the holes, almost as if the entity caressed its prison, both loving and loathing at the same time.