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The second day.

Emerwyn marked her path by sight and scent as she moved soundlessly through the jungle. It was an area she had not travelled before, and she wondered where it could lead.
And who it would lead her to.

Soon, she felt an old familiar smell reach her nostrils. And a faint, soothing sound reach her ears. The trees began to grow sparse, and she felt sand creep up between her toes. She was coming up on the beach.
Vaguely, Emerwyn wondered how far she was from where she'd been discovered all those months ago.

But, before she left the trees, she had to remind herself again, "There is no cover there, Emerwyn."
And, somewhat reluctantly, she held back.
She moved along, weaving through the trees, listening to the small, crashing waves.
Soon, she came upon a figure, sitting on the sand. Upon inspection, she found the figure to be Emelyn. All at once, Emerwyn got a great urge to rush up to Emelyn and apologize for the foolish way she had acted the other day.
But, once again, the greater part of her mind held her back.
After all, another figure, clad strangely, and... somehow, uneven, was approaching Emelyn.

Emerwyn got as close as she could whilst remaining hidden, and listened and watched as well as she could...

"Not a problem! I'll be down there in a minute." So the woman had heard him coming. He tried gazing back at her, but the sun was in that direction and he couldn't see a thing. Her silhouette and voice were human, though, and that was a relief enough. He started forward again to get a better glimpse of this beachgoer. He was getting sick of the--

Ohhhh no. This person had a fantastic looking getup. Better than the first two peoples', even. All exposed parts of her were covered with thin spiky brown fur. Her hair was even styled to match it. He marveled at the lengths these people were going to for a simple laugh. It wasn't normal.

He gave her a nervous smile. "Is this Halloween island or something?"

"Hm.." she said, a half-amused sound that escaped her lips as the man came closer. She noted that he was an amputee, but it barely registered as important as she shook her head.

"Something like that," she said, drawing her tongue across her lips in a cursory gesture, temporarily protecting them against the sun's onslaught. "It's genetic manipulation." She shook her veritable mane of proto-quills. "Hedgehog," she said simply, reading by his expression that he wouldn't likely believe her... so she kept it 'matter-of fact.'

"Oh," she said, realizing that she'd lapsed in her manners. She stood, shoving the basket to the side and brushing sand off her as she came closer to the man. She extended the hand that he would be able to shake. "I'm Emelyn."

Emerwyn had heard the man well enough to know he was in utter denial. What she wouldn't give to live in blissful ignorance of their horrible fate...

She sat down against her hiding tree, watching them still. She wanted to be there to comfort the man when he finally accepted the frightening truth...
Then she shook her head. "Enough. You can't help anyone anymore... "

She galnced at the appetiing foliage beside her. She'd better eat now.
After all, you can't fight nature.

"Whatever works for you," he smiled, releasing her hand. She had claws, which had actually made tiny scratches in his leather glove. "Most people call me Zach anyhow."

He noted that she say anything more about being a hedgehog. He was mildly surprised she didn't have more to add to the story of becoming an animal. Nor did she mention that all the people he was meeting on this island were becoming animals, slowly but surely. He didn't want to believe it though, simply because if it was true... it would be terrifying.

He'd press her for more details if he could stand to hear them. She was deliberately pointing the conversation away from the tales of transformation. "I'm surprised," he said quickly, "You're the third person I've met here, and all three of you say the same thing about this place. I'd really like to know more about it, since it sounds..." He produced a word that he figured played along with their game. "It sounds fun. Becoming an animal, getting to run around with fur or scales or who-knows-what."

He chuckled inwardly. That pretty much nailed her. The islanders couldn't possibly have a solid story for their dress up game. His eyes betrayed the cheer he was forcing into his voice. He wanted to finally get the truth.

"Fun?" She huffed a single, breathy laugh, and shook her head. "Well, to tell the truth, the 'being an animal' part isn't so bad. It can even be fun at times. It's Moreau's treatment, mostly, that wreaks the most havoc on us." She spoke gently, for although his words seemed outwardly accepting of their situation, she could hear the jest behind them. He was probably trying to catch her in some sort of trap- waiting for her to 'let out the joke.'

"Here, let's sit down." She indicated with a sweep of her arm the area near her crop of beach grass, flattened to the sand with rocks. "Since you're interested, I'll tell you anything you'd like to know." Her approach was to plough forth, answering his questions and not pulling any emotional gambits to try to convince him. He would realize soon enough that she was serious. Either that, or he would use her words to pepper the foundation of his denial. Either way, he deserved to know the truth. Whether he'd believe it or not.

She took a cross-legged seat back in her place, pulling the basket back up into her lap. "So. ...What is it you'd like to know?" She said.

Emelyn had it covered. Emerwyn smiled at the two.
"Good luck, Zach," she said, and she walked off again into the trees, her work for the day completed.

Words swam through her mind as she went. She was ready. And maybe, through this, she could help herself with the greater obstacles that lay in the not-so-distant future.

He felt a little more at ease now. There may still be some sort of creatures lurking in the jungle, but this girl wasn't one of them, to him. The longer he looked, the less confident he was about the fakeness of her appearance. Not even movie magic could pull off some of her animalistic features with costumes alone.

He processed the information she told him slowly. This was heavy stuff, if it was true. Biology was the class he was worst at of the three basic sciences, so it would be just as beyond him as Em. The story seemed to fit a few details he'd noticed. Things were revolving around shots here. His hand clenched tightly at the thought of having to get another one. That wasn't part of the story given by Duvert. Maybe he'd be able to avoid it, and therefore keep both his humanity and sanity intact.

I shouldn't be believing this, but I am, he thought. Her hand smoothly transitioned into claws. There wasn't a hint of plastic. He wasn't scared so much as guilty now. It was an awful feeling, because there was someone he owed a major apology to.

But no, he was still not absolutely certain. False until proven true. He continued, voice still quick with a slowly growing anxiety. "That's... uh... amazing. And why is Moreau doing all of this?" He made a wide gesture at the island. He hoped he'd gotten the name right.