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"Cabot—Cabot—Cabot," came from the translator. Then to my amazement when the Beetle neared Sarm the Priest-King sank down on his supporting appendages, almost as if he were on his knees, and suddenly plunged his face and antennae into the midst of the waving mane hair of the Golden Beetle. I watched the pincerlike jaws grip and puncture the thorax of the Priest-King. More rock dust drifted between me and the pair locked in the embrace of death. More rock tumbled to the dome and bounced clattering to the debris below. The very globe and walkway seemed to lift and tremble but neither of the creatures locked together above me seemed to take the least notice. Sarm's antennae lay immersed in the golden hair of the Beetle; his grasping appendages with their sensory hairs caressed the golden hair; even did he take some of the hairs in his mouth and with his tongue try to lick the exudate from them. - (Priest-Kings of Gor, Chapter )