Ducking under the belly of the beast is a memorable experience; Seoraj is pretty sure that he's going to be smelling dragon balls for the next two days (which he assesses a moment later as optimism, given that they're still on the first leg of the journey and if this is setting the tone then goddamn), but on the other hand, at least it's warm. He could be under a dragon, stalked by patchwork monsters, and freezing his nipples into engraving tools-- it can always be worse.

For instance, he could be slower on the uptake about move in this direction and one of those wrong-limbed things could be better at tracking. They're blind, he thinks from the glimpses he catches, but that raises the worrying question of which senses they're relying on instead; times like these you're grateful for an overpowering stench. He doesn't relax, quite, as their circling search begins to spiral outward from the dragon and further away - he's not stupid - but he keeps it in mind, the limitations of those nightmares.

It's not practically useful information; contextualizing them turns that instinctive fear of the too wrong and too strange into something manageable.