As his arms and legs are pulled, He Ming yelps, more from surprise than pain. It doesn't actually hurt that much, and he's wondering again what this creature wants from them. It doesn't seem to plan on eating them. As sticky, slick tentacles slip under the hem of his shirt and over his belly, his fruitless struggles slow down. He can barely even move his hands.

"I'm okay," he calls out. Even though being held up is strange, he's not in pain and he wants to reassure Cehd'ra that at least for now, it's only weird and not too bad. "It's not hurting me. Are you okay?"

From this angle, it's hard for He Ming to see exactly what's going on with Cehd'ra. He can't see the tentacles gliding over Cehd'ra's neck and up to stroke his face, curious, and almost gentle. It can feel the rhythm of respiration and moves in to explore it with the pointed tip of one appendage.