Hooray! Hideously intimate interrogation time! Of all the times of day, this was frequently the best. Maybe that was sad. Zea could consider the possibility later.
Oblirin. Zea didn't know quite what to make of that name. One of the more foreign she had heard in a fair string of minutes.
"Zea Misra. Calling me Zea is fine, though if you meet me in a temple setting just... I don't know. Do whatever everyone else is doing." This was not theology time. "And uh. This seems more rounded?" She tried to close her fingers on it, but they skidded in blood and slipped right off. "Little sonovabitch. Not you," she amended, realizing that this Oblirin probably didn't need to be cursed at in addition to rummaged about inside. "Just got to get this... thing here..."
Finally, after a couple more near misses, Zea just coagulated the blood between her fingers and the smooth surface within, forming first a tacky sludge and then a stiff scab. What she pulled out was now extremely messy but probably not physically dangerous. It was the writing on it that made her pull a scowl.
"This feels like metal too. It's got marks on it, looks like writing. I don't know if you saw anything like that before, but I'll set it aside. You can screw around with it later if you really want."