Annanu and Enkidu imitated with mud, weaving with mud.
They thought, Let us take the form of those [humans].
Their shapes gradually changed, molded by their own will.
They gained limbs.
They gained heads.
They gained antlers.
They gained patterns.
And nothing else.
So this was what humans were. How wondrous.
Annanu and Enkidu had become like this—mud people—yet they remained trapped within the storm.
But they could now move their bodies freely.
They could move their heads, hands, and feet, but compared to their former bodies of simple mud, this form was still far too restrictive.
Their shapes had once been whatever they wished, yet now they were constrained into the form of "humans."
How strange.
How wondrous.
Annanu and Enkidu, having taken the form of [complete humans], examined themselves.
As mentioned before, aside from their heads, limbs, branch-like antlers, and the strange patterns on their bodies, they had nothing. Naturally, they had no facial features—no eyes to see, no nostrils to breathe through, nor ears to hear sounds.
Their perception still came entirely from magic power.
From entering the storm to understanding within it that this was "the voice of humans," Annanu and Enkidu had spent eighty days.
And from being mere mud to assuming their current forms, they spent another eighty days.
After taking this form, they began to call out.
[Human, can you hear us?]
[Human, can you hear us?]
The two mud people called out together, calling toward that complete human.
The mud people did not know fatigue, nor did they know when to stop. Taking turns, they called out again and again.
They no longer knew how long they had been calling.
Then, finally, at some point—
"Who?"
Words like that reached them.
It was a clear, pleasant voice like that of a young