He thought that the strange white crystal was eerie enough. Now an exact replica shows up in the body of a dismantled rodent corpse? Creepy. Cilen was pretty sure they weren't the same though, as he tried holding the black crystal yet it didn't even emit light any sort of light.
Placing the two crystals in the pouch, for now, Cilen devoted his efforts to finish skinning the corpse. Despite his limited experience, he reasoned he did okay. There was some wastage and some cuts in the fur, however, Cilen concluded that it would be more productive to worry about other things than cry over some spilled milk.
Cilen considered the possibility of starting a fire to cook his newly obtained fresh produce, yet the idea was quickly doused (budum-chiii) after inspecting his damp surrounding and peering outside at the pouring rain.
With nothing to do but wait it out, Cilen took out the crystal that he found in the rodent's home (technically it's his home now) and started fiddling with it. The crystal was not very large; about the size of a fingernail. The edges were smooth and well defined indicating that it was perhaps not something that naturally occurred, rather, the work of something or someone.
While examining it from the side, the crystal lit up again, this time, Cilen felt that it took something from him; something from inside him had disappeared into the crystal. It was subtle but he definitely felt that he was slightly more exhausted than before.
From what he could tell, the crystal seemed like a reading device. It read the energy signal from inside of him and the output was that strange purple light. Perhaps other people would cause it to shine in a different color? Cilen wasn't really sure. He had a bad habit of overanalyzing the smallest of details and getting caught up in them.
As the rainforest sky finally started darkening and the shadows under the canopies started to thicken, Cilen found himself reflecting a little bit. Now that he was stuck in a completely alien world with aliens speaking an unknown language living with their alien customs, his previous life seemed almost.... cute in comparison.
Issues like struggling inside a workplace and identity crisis are irrelevant when your life is on the line. Imagine running from a monster while whining about your incompetent superior. Or questioning the meaning of your existence while trying to desperately survive another day. Winging and moaning never helped anyone, and this world was keen to make sure that he never had the opportunity to kick up a fuss.
Perhaps this was the change that Cilen needed for so long.