"No crazier than my nose suddenly deciding everything smells," Lyall wheezes back, still trying to sort out everything he's being bombared with. He only halfway registers what Fay says, in part probably because it makes so little sense. Nothing is making sense, anymore, it seems like. "Or crazier than little tiny balls of black fluff that smell like-- like-- acidic cleaner!"

Also, it might be a bad idea to feel at the little thing, as it winds up fastening teeth on the end of a finger, hard.