Welcome to Gaia! ::

Emelyn looked at Lucas- and found her eyes steeling into his, her eyebrows furrowing down. Faint lines of focus- or frustration- appeared through the lighter hairs on her brow.

"What a terrible question." She seemed angry. "No. The answer is no. Nothing here makes me happy. More often than not, the things that I do surround myself with... are just there to keep me alive. To keep me from..." the pause was audible. "Well. Just to keep me alive."

Emelyn experienced the odd sensation of being irritated, tired, and glad all at once, and it set her into a constant whirring state between the three. One moment, her eyes would be the picture of anger, then, she'd practically slump in upon herself for the sake of her exhaustion- all the while, a part of her was shocked and desperate for someone to understand, someone to care more about her than just what she could do for them. It was an entirely new experience for her, and she didn't know how to respond. ...Emelyn was the quintessential 'candle'... forever lighting the way for others while consuming herself. On this island of such perfect grief, she had long given way to the needs of others. This slip into an empathetic frame of mind had somehow become the entirety of her days- and, not since her days in the arms of Ambrose had she found someone whose desire to see her okay outweighed their own need to be heard, to be comforted. It had been so long- even before Ambrose, that seemingly minute moment of her life that had not gone beyond simple affection and mutual attraction- there had only been Mizzie and Grandpa John, dead now for several years. It would take Emelyn a while to be able to process the sort of comfort that Lucas provided.

"He... he needs me." She was befuddled, lost, somehow, and her words sounded small. "I love him, but I'm always so afraid he'll be hurt- killed... taken away. I need to be okay so that I can protect him. He gives me company... but no."

"I've been out here since January, and I'm still here. I think I can take care of myself." The words weren't spoken out of malice or self-righteousness... but neither were they matter-of-fact. If anything, they were truth with the undertone of a double meaning- as if to say, 'yes, I am physically safe- but there are other parts of me that are more in danger from living out here'. It was the closest to an admittance that Emelyn would allow herself to approach.

At the offering of candy, a small part of Emelyn was immediately cheered. It was that same part of her that would always think of ice cream when she heard 'The Entertainer'- and that would make her think of long afternoons on the dock whenever someone mentioned licorice. Inside us all, there is a child who holds tight to their memories- to the smells, sounds and tastes that link them to a fond, sweet innocence of youth. Emelyn took the caramel candy- the first bit of sweetness that didn't come from a berry- that she'd had for many months. She rolled it along her tongue for a moment before answering, then pressed it against the roof of her mouth- delighted to find that her now so hedgehog-like palate did not reject the bit of sweetness, but rather, revelled in it, marvelling at its complexity and joy of flavor. Emelyn was experiencing the flavor of 'sweet'- not only for the first time in a long while... but also, in a way... for the first time in her life.

"Mm." It was a sound of pleasure, before she finally answered his question. "No. Not unless someone tugs at them really hard. ...They didn't feel too peachy coming out, though- but some of them just transformed out of my regular hair. The rest came through my back. ...This candy is very good, thank you."

"Mm... after I've sucked this one to death, I'll have another." She'd pushed the slowly diminishing sweet to the pocket of her left cheek, pinning it there between the pink flesh and her elongated hedgehog chompers. Emelyn smiled- knowing what a strange comment it would have been, out of context- but she said nothing more on the subject.

"But it's actually not too much of a problem for sleeping. I've always slept on my stomach- now the habit's just reinforced. ...And I bet sitting down would be a pain..." Emelyn considered, "I hadn't thought about it. I've been in the wild since the bulk of my transformations occurred. I've never sat on a legitimate chair, with a back... with all these spines. ...Hugging's a problem, though. And normal shirts don't fit."

"Thanks!" Em took the offered candies and shoved them, one by one, into the pockets of her jeans. They would make very welcome treats later. Reuben even lifted up his head and sniffed, and his tail made a slow, entreating thump against her back- as if to ask for one himself. But Em made deliberate work of pushing the candies down into her pockets without a second thought to the dog- who eventually lay back down on the earth with a canine-like sigh.

"...Do ... you know what animal you've been infused with, Lucas?"

A soft smile was Em's only reply. It was the only sympathy, she knew from experience, that most people could bear at this juncture.

"Dr. Duvert has a strange- but not cruel sense of humor, I've found. ...But the first transformation is never too difficult. And it will be spread out, over time. At least it won't... sneak up on you."