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Before Emelyn could respond that she had been in the 'first wave' of islanders to arrive- and to relive that there had been a time when none of them knew what was going on... and that the faces around her were all still human, Lucas asked something that furrowed her brows.

"Tried to threaten Moreau? ...No. Why, who's threatened Moreau? How?" It didn't surprise her that she was out of the loop- but, even so, it didn't occur to her to let Lucas know why she was. This was her life, now- it was what was natural to her.

"Poor Aubrey," Em said, low and soft. "If people keep it up, we're going to lose our one advocate." She didn't like the idea of Aubrey being attacked again- but, figured that if the greatest punishment Moreau had for the culprits was isolation from the village, that they mustn't have injured Aubrey very much. Had they injured her seriously, Em knew that Moreau would have done something terrible in respone. But, then again, those days Em didn't put much stock behind exile being in the 'doghouse'.

"And to knock us out, by the way, all they have to do is say "Subject Whomever: Sleep"- and some chip we have that they've implanted in us will immediately render us unconscious. ...Makes it difficult to think you have a free will. Technically, a lot of our decisions have been made for us." The words, for all their many meanings, were said with a sort of starkness.

A croak of a laugh was the precursor to her speaking. "Your mind goes a mile a minute, doesn't it? Yes. I don't know how many of the staff you've met- but, in my experience, the only one with even a shred of a conscience is Aubrey. ...Dr Lockheart. The others... don't seem to have any qualms. If anything, I've found them- deliriously happy with their progress in the de-evolution of our lives."

She paused there, as if to swallow the fumes of such a weighty speech. She hadn't intended to sound so flighty, so... thickened with prose. She shook her head and continued. "They tell us where to live. What to eat... even with their little mindgames, they try to make us think a certain way... fear certain things. Moreau's use of 'exile' from the village is just one way of telling the rest of the villagers "you can be next. I can take this away from you at any time." It's a reminder that even though they want us to think we're safe normally, that really... they hold the power. THey can take anything away from us at any time. You may think you've decided to... try to escape, or not. ...Or to attack a staff member, or not. But really, all our choices- all their outcomes- are already predetermined."

The sound of a barking animal coming closer gave Emelyn pause for a moment and she looked off into the distance, her mind swimming. For once, a crack in her armor had appeared- and it grew longer by the second.

Despite herself- particularly despite the crack that was still working its way around her fragile soul, Emelyn smiled. It was not an amused smile, nor a wry one- just a solid smile that spoke to something she couldn't possibly express. It was a stark smile, and a complex one all at once.

"If you mean the lockout, yes. ...Sometimes I think that event was the turning point." She didn't say to what- for a little dog came bounding through the brush, his tongue lolling from one side of his mouth, and his eyes filled with delight at seeing his mother with someone new.

Reuben made no short work of running to the new person and sticking his nose directly into the one place he might serve to gain the best 'scents': Lucas' crotch.

Emelyn couldn't help but to laugh as Lucas set the medium-sized dog down near her. Reuben had allowed himself to be repositioned, going practically limp in the man's arms. He'd been carried down enough rough spots on the mountain by Em to know that wriggling was not allowed when he was in someone's arms. He wasn't a heavy dog, Em knew- just awkward. "I'm sorry. He's never done that before. ...He must really like you. Reuben you bad dog."

Reuben toddled around Emelyn with a goofy canine grin on his face and a wagging tail to match. He didn't recognize the words 'bad dog'- not when she spoke them in such an amused, obviously happy voice. For all he knew, she'd just extolled his virtues as the best dog ever born. ...Life was easy for Reuben. Happier, certainly, since his release into Emelyn's care. The days in testing, the nights in cages... his life as a labdog was all but forgotten, the only remnants of which were the dreams he still had, imagining trying to turn around and finding only bars. It seems even the most innocent of creatures to grace the shores of Doctor Moreau's Island- would come away with a taint that even love could not erase.

"No. I've only had him for a few months. He was a gift from Aubrey after I found her the last time she was attacked by an islander and got her some help. I think she figured that everyone else would have just left her there. ...I certainly hope she was wrong. But in any case, she wanted to give me something in return- and all I could bear to accept from her or the labs was one of the lab animals." She crouched down and ruffled Reuben's fur. "Set one of them free." It was the most straightforward version of how she'd gained Reuben that she'd ever told. She didn't know whether it was because Lucas was so obviously new, and wouldn't have the same hang-ups about the staff as some of the longer islanders... or if it was something in the way he'd asked her the question- that Em wouldn't have dreamed to answer in any way but the simple, honest truth.

Emelyn was beginning to become used to Lucas' thought pattern- his way of speech which spoke to an inner treadmill of musings- and found herself falling into pattern with it, answering in jolts and shorts, and allowing the conversation to unfold as it may.

"She's been attacked... several times. More than will do any of us any good. ...What sort of pet is it?" Emelyn strayed away from the subject of who would be taking care of it; no need to remind him of the people he'd likely never see again. She also didn't respond to his comment to Reuben- not so much that it was focused to the dog, but rather, because the words made her blush. The flushed coloring was hidden by the dark fur on her cheeks, but Em was still embarrassed. Had she been so long isolated out here, that the simplest compliment could make her feel so unsettled? She dismissed the thought.