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Billy and Kimberly were taking a walk--they looked rather like siblings with their denim overalls (although the blue and white striped shirt was a vast contrast to the tight pink with black piping around the sleeve and neck edge shirt)--as the former wanted to show his friend something. He had lured her away from her garden with promise of needing her help, which was perfectly true, and then distracted her from questioning "with what" by talking of movies.

By nature, Kimberly wasn't a movie aficionado. She did however have her favorite movies that she could yammer on about for hours on end. As it was she had gone from talking about Mary Poppins to speaking about The Sound of Music. It had been the last movie that she'd watched with her mother and Trini before the battle that had sent her flying to this place. She had often sung songs from it as a child and her father had often sung to her as well--it was sometimes hard to watch it ever since her parent's divorce. She wasn't thinking about any of that today, her attention more on what her intelligent friend could possibly need help with.

It didn't take long for the scientist to lead her to a spot. It was an idyllic place, a clearing in the midst of large trees that was only interrupted by the babbling of a small creek. There was scribbles in the dirt and she knew it was where he came to think about equations, experiments--anything scientific--to keep from being distracted by or annoying to his friends.

She opened her mouth but stopped in mid-thought as a rather large animal approached the tiny stream. She thought at first it might be a wolf--overactive imagination jumping to conclusions--before she took the time to really look at it. No, it wasn't a wolf but a dog. A stray by the looks of him.

The fur was drenched with water and the poor thing looked like a drowned rat--probably smelled like one, too--though it wasn't starving. It looked rather healthy all things considered. Although she had no clue what breed it was. The face made her think of a lab, a relative had had a chocolate one once and this dog had similar ears and muzzle. The body wasn't at all a lab. It was stockier but she didn't know enough about dogs to guess what else it might be. She took a step forward and watched as it raised its head--one brown eye and one blue eye peered back at her in cautious concern, a long tail tipped in white tucking between it's legs. She knew it was a boy then and was instantly filled with memories.

Jason holding a small dog in his arms as they traveled the park looking for it's owner. Jason with a hideous red rash that itched. The Red Ranger crumbled on the ground, trashing about in agony.

She gulped, shaking her head at the memories. It was possible that Rita was responsible for them being lost--going so far as to make sure they couldn't go back or blocking Zordon from finding them--but she wouldn't use the same trick twice. This dog wouldn't have been looked at by the alien witch.

"I continuously attempt to approach him but he is too cautious. I thought perhaps a feminine touch would be more appealing to him," Billy stated, more to snap Kimberly out of memories he was sure she was remembering. She had that look on her face.

"I don't know much about dogs, Billy." Kimberly replied, turning to look at him sheepishly.

"Jason and you made good friends with that dog Rita infected with fleas," he reminded her.

With a sigh, Kimberly rolled her eyes and looked at the canine. It was staring back at her. She was sure it wouldn't want to be caught but then she had always been fond of dogs (and she knew that Billy and Jason were, too). Perhaps they could befriend the wayward pup. It wasn't exactly a puppy, as a medium-sized dog it wasn't in a stage of gangly awkwardness where it seemed all limbs, but it didn't seem old either.

"Here puppy puppy puppy," Kimberly called rather lamely, feeling a bit silly and incredibly self-conscious. She watched as its ears perked up, swiveling forward, but made no movement to come near. She tensed when Billy laughed, smothering it with his paw.

"I apologize, that was unkind. However I did try that method first," he explained. He pushed his glasses up and smiled, making it impossible to mad at him.

Well that left her with no idea what to do. She could sit here forever and it might never come closer. She might--and that was a very weak might--have some luck if she had some food to feed it. Although what and where were different matters.

"Why don't you go find some food? Perhaps it'll be more eager if we have something to feed it."

For a moment, all the color seemed to drain from Billy's face. She giggled quietly.

"Not fish," she amended apologetically. She grinned as he let out a loud sigh of relief before nodding his head and trotting off. Which left her alone with a dog and still no idea how to get it to come here. She made a strange whine in her throat before blowing at a stray strand of hair that had fallen into her face. She would think of something. She would.

After singing a lullaby, humming, pondering transforming and using her abilities to her advantage (before reminding herself fiercely that that would be wrong and against Zordon's rules), talking to it, and even pretending to ignore it, she was no closer to garnering its trust. It had settled down for a nap. However the dog was a light sleeper and every shift of movement had him opening his eyes, sometimes slowly raising his head to watch her more carefully.

It'd led her to rethinking her grand idea to follow her friend in the first place. She should have demanded to know what he needed help with. She should have--something. She huffed in frustration before flopping down burying her face against the back of her paws. She wondered if Maria had this much trouble with the von Trapp children. How would she have gone about it?

Slowly she lifted her head, beginning to sing every song from The Sound of Music she could. She flubbed a few words here and there as she didn't remember every song perfectly. She'd gone through "The Sound of Music", "Maria", "I Have Confidence" (ha!), "Sixteen Going on Seventeen", "My Favorite Things", and "Do-Re-Mi". Still the dog resided firmly across the stream from her. She briefly wondered why it hadn't simply left yet but decided looking a gift horse in the mouth at the moment would be rather stupid.

With a sigh, she launched into the next song. "The Lonely Goatherd" started easily enough but the yodeling, she struggled with it causing the canine to c**k his head at the strange sounds she was making. She sounded much like a yowling cat that was being pummeled when she attempted yodeling. The fact she was singing, yodeling, to a dog made her giggle and she collapsed in a heap, body shaking.

Perhaps the dog thought she was ill or sick or sad. Perhaps he thought she was losing her mind. Whatever the reason, this dramatic change made the dog rise and he carefully padded over to the otter, his tail low but whipping back and forth. It buried its nose into her hair sniffing at her until finding a patch of fur. His pink tongue darted out to lick the girl's cheek and she raised her head to look at the dog.

"Now you come up to me," she deadpanned. "Hello, then."

It was then that Billy returned, a makeshift knapsack clutched in his mouth. He watched the dog and his friend quizzically, approaching slowly and placing the sack on the ground before opening it to display various foods. A handful of berries, some type of meat or venison (Kimberly didn't want to know how he'd managed to get that), a few slices of watermelon, and one fish (which he had not caught himself).

"Watermelon?" she queried though he only shrugged in response. She turned to see the dog poking his nose at the food in interest and much to her surprise, he scarfed down the juicy red fruit first leaving the green and white rind behind. "Huh. He's a little odd, isn't he?"

Billy grinned, "I believe that we are a little odd, too." He winked at her and then with an adorably hopeful face, "Can we name him Einstein?"

Response:
WARNING: This response is violent - do not read if bloody battles and death will upset you!



The dog was pretty small it looked like something the humans would put in their laps and pet, an animal that had no other purpose. Yellow glowing eyes narrowed into cruel slits before a deadly fanged smirk slowly curved the lips of the Oasis most actively dangerous otters. Angelus had wrestled with a few small wolves, but there had never been a victory there just mutual destruction and escape. This was different though, the small dog looked lost but not totally helpless. His throat seemed to grow raspy and hot at the mere thought of draining something twice the size of most normal otters. Mmm, yes he licked his lips and slowly trailed the dog as it wandered through the oasis sniffing around and looking around bewildered.

Angelus noticed some wild watermelon growing and quickly slunk over to hide among the large fruit. He waited silently for the small dog 3...2...1 the dog poked it's nose among the melons to sniff, no doubt having caught Angelus scent. He struck quickly with all the finesse of a practiced murderer. His sharp claws scraped across the small dogs muzzle and left eye. Angelus boots firmly shoved off the ground as he launched himself at the dog trying to get it on it's back. Angelus was large but the dog was just a tad heavier, larger, and backpeddling as fast as it could. The dog suddenly let out a miserable series of yaps and yowls of pain as it tried to turn tail and run.

Angelus thought for a moment that the screams of pain sounded like music, yodeling perhaps, a sound that echoed through the oasis. It warmed his dead heart to know he could bring such sounds out of creatures. He quickly leapt infront of the dog and grinned. The small animal quivered and then realized there was no escape, it's right eye dilated in terror. Then the fight came into it, the instinct to protect itself from this wild creature trying to take it's life. It snarled and lunged at Angelus sharp teeth grabbing the otter by his tail and trying to fling him away. It was a terrier, a rat terrier a creature who's instincts were embedded in it's very blood. To the dog Angelus was just a large dangerous rat and it had to be destroyed.

The demonic male hissed and then snarled as the dog managed to grab his tail and he felt himself sail through the air landing with a huff a few feet away. Luckily he hadn't knocked into anything. He quickly scrambled back onto his feet and stalked towards the dog, oh it would regret that deeply. He thought of Buffy, of 'Di, of Connor, of all those who had dared to defy him, to deny him. He leapt and landed on the dogs back wasting no time in going for it's throat. With the feral cruelty of one with no soul Angelus ripped open the dogs neck and began to gorge himself on the blood.

Later when he was full he stared at the empty carcass, but no sense of victory filled him. His tail stung from the dogs bite and he hadn't felt the same thrill that killing Buffy or tormenting 'Di had brought him. He kicked the dog's small lifeless body into the river and snarled as he watched it bob down and then float away. Without bothering to wash the blood from his muzzle he stalked into the darkness and back to his den feeling suddenly sick...too much blood...that was all...just a bit too much blood.

The first letter, he'd disregarded before even looking at it. That wasn't his name on it and so he didn't care what it was. It wasn't as if anyone that knew him would send him something, it wasn't as if anyone who knew him had a hint of where he lived (something he took every precaution of nowadays). But then a second had shown up, followed by a third, and then he'd gotten curious. He'd slit one open with a claw and--well there wasn't much to be said about it. He'd made a strangled yelp, fumbled with the paper until it was hidden under his paws and shut his eyes tight. What was the liquid that humans used to clean? He wanted--no, he needed that most divine invention now. Though he was sure nothing would scrub out that from his brain. If only he drank! What a fine time not to be an alcoholic...

After that he had studiously ignored them. His curiosity had been extinguished and he shoved them into a pile under some leaves outside his den. But it seemed a new one showed up every day and soon the letters were threatening to make him move. As much as he loathed the idea of meeting the letter-writer or even the deliverer, he simply couldn't put up with it anymore. He wanted his home and his territory (not to mention his mind) back to himself. He could always meet whoever it was, memorize their scent, and scare the fur off of them as a wolf. He shook his head--terrible idea. On second thought, it had potential... At least in theory, he amended.

It was that night, Keiran decided he would have to catch whoever was sending--or at least delivering--these "love letters" to the wrong home. He might ask how they had happened to find his den in the first place. Not even the dead carcasses he engorged himself on as a wolf knew of this place, his home that he had made sure was untainted by his vile transformations. Not that his home was impossible to find but it was generally thought to be out of the way, a dreary sort of hollow of the reserve that wasn't appealing to even the bad sort that thrived in other areas. It was actually beautiful in a dull sort of way, the air of emptiness adding to the illusion of being uninhabitable.

Thus, the old otter pulled himself from his den at the point of midnight to watch for who would appear with a letter. He knew they weren't delivered at night, the scent while weak was still a heavy odor by the time he found them after fishing for breakfast. Still he was somewhat nocturnal nowadays and little more than two weeks after a full moon--which meant in eighteen days time he would feel the wretched beast stirring to the surface and hear himself howling at the moon like some deviant vagrant. He sighed, weary. He felt so old after them.

It was as the sun was rising that the sounds of someone approaching caught his somewhat drowsy attention--waiting would always be a boring pursuit. The autumn leaves crinkled under the fall of paws until a small angelic otter wandered into the clearing in front of the den. He was a somewhat dark colored male with a furry hat on his head that read 'mail' and a messenger bag that rested on his back. He sat up, shifting the bag until it was in front of him, and began to dig through for the letter he had to deliver. He gave a grin once he found it and was about to get up so that he could properly drop it off.

"That doesn't go there," Keiran bit out as he came into sight. He looked much more malevolent than he was (as an otter anyway).

The mail-deliverer snapped his head up, paw snapping towards his chest and clutching the letter in surprise. For a few moments, he did nothing but stare with wide eyes then released a slow breath. "Good gods, are you trying to give me a heart attack?" he sputtered finally.

"Would you stop delivering those letters if I did?" he grouched, nose scrunched up at the mere thought of those things.

"Ehh, depends I s'pose. I might decide it's unfinished business," the mail-man decided after a pause. He gave a shrug and then looked at the name on the letter and back to Keiran. "I must say, you don't much look like a--" he squinted his eyes to read the scrawl, "Baby Girl..."

"No. How very astute of you to notice," his voice dripped with sarcasm, "Now how about being so kind as to deliver those to their rightful owner?"

"My delivery route says that should be dropped off here, 'fraid that's all there is to it," he said. He gave a show of trying to look apologetic and then pulled out his map to show the older otter. He placed it on the ground and pointed to an "X" that marked the spot.

Keiran approached the map, stared at it, walked around it, looked up at his surroundings, gazed back down, and then lifted his face to glower.

"I imagine you must not have yet realized that this map, is of the south side of the reserve. The part littered in meadows and grass, not trees!"

"Oh. Huh. You'd think they'd tell you that..." he trailed off then fidgeted as the sound of footfalls began to echo. "Um, now would prob'ly be a good time to let you know about the pizza and telegram..."

He merely stared and watched as two women walked into the clearly. Neither looked to be close to winning any awards unless it was most menacing or wildest hair. The latter, a woman in her mid to late fifties, had wild honey brown hair. She had feathers and possibly twigs littered throughout her updo that made her look as though a bird had--or perhaps was--nesting in her hair. She had thick horn-rimmed glasses in black with gems in the corners (more than a few had fallen off) and she looked rather miserable in her pizza delivery-gal uniform of some shiny gold or light yellow.

The other woman was younger, perhaps by a decade, with short black hair and thick straight bangs covering her forehead--although the top hat did a good job of obscuring them. If there was any truth to the saying that looks could kill this would be the woman that had that power. She was dressed entirely in black and looked murderous and gloomy at the same time. She slowly looked over the woman beside her and her lips seemed to quirk up ever so slightly, seeming to decide that perhaps this time she had the better deal.

"I didn't know you delivered pizzas," the younger woman started.

"After the horrible things that man had us serve in the catering business?" the older woman scoffed. She took a side glance at the other human, "What are you supposed to be?"

"Oh," she gave a long sigh while rolling her eyes, "a singing telegram."

"You can sing?"

"Mmm," was the only reply she got and it was hard saying what that meant. As the silence seemed to thicken the younger one decided she might as well get it over with. She stepped forward, striking a pose--or placing a hand on her hip.

"Duh. Duh. Duh. Duh. Duh." Each note was delivered in a monotone voice. "I am," she paused and made a minor gesture with her hand, "your singing," another pause, "telegram."

Three pairs of eyes stared at the very unenthusiastic speaker and she gave a one shoulder shrug. No one ever said she had to be good at it or try to be.

"I'd look for another job..."

"Oh, it won't be long until we're all looking for work."

As if to prove the point, a male voice shouted out and a portly man with slicked back hair and a mustache walked out. He walked with a firm military air and was wearing the same delivery uniform.

"Miss Peacock!" he boomed, "This is pizza delivery, not chit-chat time! How many times do you have to be told this is not a social gathering or dinner party?"

Once he realized there was company--well as much company as two otters could be and--, "Ah, Miss White..."

"I was just leaving," she retorted, turning on her heel and walking off. She really had liked her previous job better, it was so much easier to slack off when one was a maid. Why someone had to make a pass at her, she didn't know. She had rather enjoyed strangling him until Plum pulled her off. And Scarlet had fixed the whole thing--she was sure Plum and Wadsworth were a bit upset with her about that. They did so like the vixen, not that she understood why.

In the clearing, Mustard took the pizza from Peacock and gave it to the otters not knowing what else to do. It had been paid for in advance and this was the location their contact had given them. When he started to leave and she made no motion to, he grabbed her arm and started to pull her away.

"There are others waiting!" he shouted and she thought really, she could use a knife. Why she had bothered breaking out of prison with these lunatics was beyond her. And she really hated working actual jobs. Why couldn't they open up a dinner hosting business? Ooh, they could do murder mysteries! --she sighed, they really were too violent for that. They probably would kill someone, a lot of someones, and end up being too real.

Keiran stared after the humans. Why in the world was the world still spinning? Everyone was an absolute lunatic! He gave a lingering sigh. Why him? Really? What had he done?

"So then, I'll be taking the letters--" the mail-otter paused, "are you going to eat that?"

"No, it's all yours. If you promise never, and I mean never," his eyes flashed with menace, "to deliver something here or even give out this location to another soul--not even to a rock!"

The angelic blinked, stuffed the letters hurriedly into his bag, grabbed the pizza and flew off. What a nut!

And Keiran sighed, relishing the quiet before slinking back into his den. The next thing that came to his home was going to be very sorry.

Ariel was sitting up on the rocks her fin lightly flicking up water as the sun slowly set casting shadows all about. William wasn't quite awake yet but he had brought her a lovely basket the night before. She rifled through it now with excited little gasps, there were cookies, and crackers, cheeses, bits of sausage, little jars of jelly, and some mints too! She looked up as she thought she saw something out of the corner of her eye.

"Hello?" She asked softly but no one replied, so she opened up a jar of jelly and started to dip a cracker in. Ariel still felt...watched though even as she munched on various snacks and finally she packed the basket back up.

Slowly she looked around again, was that a shadow in the trees? She leaned forward but then nothing...except the faint outline of a wide hat departing. She shivered a bit, was that a hoo-man? Except that the main human on the reserve was the park ranger. Why would the park ranger be following her around, oh goodness was it because she had discovered the hoo-man secret ability to breathe fire?

She quickly stowed away her basket and slipped back into the water, except as she swam she could have sworn that a shadow was watching her even from the surface. She quickly swam up and looked around, but again nothing but the retreating hat. Now she was nervous and quickly she dove back under the water trying to swim back towards home. Then she spotted the shadow again, and a rock up ahead. Quickly he swam to the rock and surfaced just behind it peeking around the corner. Oh no, oh no, the ranger was after her, she was going to find her, and catch her, and eat her! Why oh why had she watched that hoo-man use his secret fire power?

Then suddenly from above she gasped as she was scooped up in a net, she was still too far from home to cry for help! Except it wasn't the ranger peering down at her but an older gentleman with glasses and a wide brimmed hat. He poked at her fins and exclaimed suddenly.
"A mer-otter! This is absolutely fascinating, this type of mythical creature simply defies all the logical assumptions we had previously made about this species." He then pulled out a sharp looking pair of tweezers and plucked one of Ariels scales.

She gave a startled cry and thrashed about as her air reserve started to run out...or rather her water reserve. "Hey let me go! Let go!"

The retired mathematician began to count her scales with little pokes almost obsessively. He had come to visit the reserve to enjoy nature and try and relax, but this was simply too amazing to pass up! "This is extraordinary!" He muttered and continued to count her scales even as she thrashed about. "347, 378, 379..."

That was it! Ariel grabbed the net and yanked hard, but the material didn't give. She curled up and bit down and the net frayed a bit, but hardly just broke. She yanked again harder and was gratified to hear 'snap, snap' snap'. Quickly she yanked the net again a hole allowing her to squirm out as the old man tried to grab her. She splashed into the water and dove deep swimming for her life and swearing to stay away from hoo-mans forever!