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Foot, crutch, foot, crutch, and all the while the tail moved between; his steps were different, he mused, listening to the strange pattern as he made his way through the jungle. A call to the labs early that morning had resulted in the gift of a single crutch a short while later. but that was more than enough, in Thom's opinion, at least providing he managed to accomplish his intended goal.

Foot, crutch, let the tail keep up; focusing kept his mind off other things. Things like the moment of silence before the World Cup, like the deaths of five of his teammates, as well as verious others, like the fact that, even assuming he managed to walk, he would never run properly again. He would worry about that some other time. Right now, his goal was simple: Master walking with the tail so he could be rid of the shaming crutch.

It was difficult. The tail didn't step, it glided. He wasn't used to controlling it, and already had been forced to slow his normally brisk strides a good deal. Step, glide, keep the short leg cocked out of the way, shift his weight to the crutch when his balance on the tail failed. He would walk again. It was only a matter of time.

Foot, crutch, step, glide; sighing in frustration, Thom braced himself on his tail and tossed the crutch away from himself, into a patch of bushes. Without bothering to think of the possible down sides to his action, he dropped to sit on the ground, setting about rubbing his malformed left leg. It was terribly sore, moreso than the normal lingering pain after a transformation. More like a muscle cramp that just didn't want to lighten up, especially given the odd angle he had been carrying it at. For the umpteenth time that day, he attempted to loosen the muscle up, lazily massaging his leg there in the middle of his jungle. He was in no hurry, and less pain meant better focus on actually walking.

The sound of someone approaching was enough to warrant a brief glance up from his task, but almost immediately he returned his eyes to the shortened leg. It was another islander, still mostly human despite the altered head. There was no need to worry. Only with the strange sound of bark against bark and the short greeting did he glance up one more.

After a moment, he straightened up somewhat, though one hand continued to massage his left leg. "'Ey." A moment passed while he examined the other islander, and then he blinked, quirking a brow. Had it not been for the faint remnants of the mohawk, he would have never recognized the younger man. "Alec? Changed again, I see."

Alec's reaction was enough to spur a grin, indeed, enough that Thom actually laughed. "I could say th' same t' you, lad. If it 'adn't been for those tufts y'call a mo'awk, I'd never've recognized you." The teeth, perhaps, would've triggered a memory in time. Or the accent, certainly; the voice was clearly Alec's. But the boy's head... "What exactly are y' turnin' into?" Better this topic than their last meeting at the soccer match. He'd rather stay on good terms with the teen, and he was honestly curious. Alec looked like some mini-dinosaur.

"Tree shark?" He echoed, both eyes widening. What in hell's name was a tree shark? He allowed himself a closer examination of the teen's changes, shaking his head in confusion. He could see it now, the shark: the head, the teeth, gills...and Alec was sitting oddly. Fins, perhaps? And yet there was bark and leaves. Sharks didn't grow leaves. "...What, th' docs can combine serums now?"

That was terrifying. Mostly because, given his own bizarre appearance, he could be just about anything. The strange deformation of his left leg didn't help matters any. "Well, I thought I was some kind of snake... Not so sure anymore." He grimaced, nodding. "Couple of days back. Still gettin' used to it."

Thom nodded. He could sympathize. Though he was not adverse to demanding things of the labs, he had yet to ask exactly what his animal was, nor did he have any intention of doing so unless he absolutely couldn't figure it out on his own. There was a sense of finality to knowing that he just didn't want to address yet.

"No worries, 'aven't asked m'self... Just started figurin' when I broke ou in scales an' m' toes vanished." He shrugged, slumping to lean back against the tree behind him. "Cassidy. Met 'er a few times. S'pose that's what fate 'as for me." He grimaced at the memory of the python girl. That would be him after one more change... His resolve to walk again returned immediately with the thought.

With Alec's final words, he grunted his agreement, avoiding the teen's eyes while he returned to massaging the short, claw-like leg. "'Urts like hellfire. Feels like it's cramped up or some such. Bloody pain in th' arse gettin' around."

Stares were to be expected. Thom had spent a good portion of his time immediately following the change simply staring at the deformed leg. He didn't mind other staring provided there was no offense meant. There was a huge difference between an Alec stare and, say, an Antony stare. And so Thom endured the stare without complaint, doing his best to ignore it by focusing his attention on the leg, continuing the awkward massage.

However, with Alec's question, he glanced up, quirking a brow. For a long moment he was silent, and then he simply shrugged, eyes returning to his leg. "Briefly. Not after this last change. I doubt it's possible. But, out of sheer curiosity, why?"

"Anymore?" he snapped, piercing gold eyes darting back up to glare at the sharkman. "It was never 'fun', y'ruddy idiot." He scowled, then sighed, anger fading into momentary defeat. Glancing around, he caught sight of his crutch laying haphazardly in a bush nearby and, with the aid of the tree he was sitting against, managed to pull himself back to his feet--or, foot, rather.

He eyed the distance, decided against attempting to reach it while Alec was there should he fall, and returned his attention to the sharkman. "We all want t'leave. But what 'appens if we do get 'ome? Everyone who knew me thinks I'm dead, an' even if I came back, who'd b'lieve I'm me? Lookin' like this..." He grimaced, then shook his head. "There's no goin' back now. Now, if there were a way t', say, be rid of th' staff... May'aps talk some of th' lab tachs into findin' a way to reverse it, then..."