After finally managing to grab the catfolk, Gorun crams him down to join the first guard.  The man isn’t so much softening yet as compacting, and with the addition of the feline, it’s only that much more cramped. And the muscles surrounding the pair are more than capable of crumpling their bodies into as small a space as possible, the sounds of their thoroughly muffled voices punctuated by grisly snaps and crunches as bones are broken and joints are dislocated.  The two aren’t in for what promises to be a pleasant last few minutes of their misspent lives.<br/>Without paying much attention to what’s going on in his stomach, the bull turns to see just what’s going on elsewhere.  He’s even lumbered a couple of steps toward the naga — at a decidedly slower pace than before he was full of guardsmen — before it dawns on him that she isn’t actually attacking them, and nor is else is attacking her.  In fact, the conversation seems remarkably civil, all things considered.  Grunting in a mix of surprise and satisfaction with this turn of events (and in no small amount due to the feline still trying to claw his way back out of his gut), the bull veers toward one of the beds and sprawls atop it with a belly that sticks up well higher than the tips of his horns or nose.<br/>“Our orders are less about extermination of the cult than rescuing the children who were abducted by them,” he adds to what Xarithe had to say on the matter, folding his hands over a belly that’s still processing the two cultists and promises to be doing so for at at least a little while longer.  At least the screams have stopped, along with most of the popping, as the two are compressed to a size that almost has the bull’s abdomen back to a more normal size.  “Clearing out the cultists in the process simply seems to be the best way of ensuring that we’re able to do so.”