Welcome to Gaia! ::

Emelyn practically squealed, leaning forward on her makeshift seat of a log, and clapped her slightly furred hands together with glee.

"That's my favorite sort! The 'what if' factor is my utterly favorite thing to write about. Science fantasy is even better than science fiction, but to some extent, it's all the same. Oh, I wish the stories I lent to Greer weren't locked up in her duplex." She spoke with the joy of purpose, uncensored or thought through- just the stream of consciousness that betrayed her feelings on the matter.

Emelyn grinned ear to ear, though by the look in her eyes, she had been brought quickly back into the real world at the mention of genetic modification. In those past few moments, she'd almost forgotten where she was... and what she was becoming. But truly... could it ever get away from her? It was as clear as the downy fur that covered her form... that this truly was the most obvious part of her destiny.

"Well," she said, "I'll be happy to write something for you. Greer said she's been killing a number of rabbits... and I can make myself charcoal pencils." She smiled, feeling better than she had in days- and certainly for the first time since she'd changed, and realized that her fears had not been realized- Joli was alive, and untouched by Moreau's possibly deadly retribution.

((And that will prolly be my last post tonight- I have to log off and leave for the night. So you can either do a wrap or I'll finish posting tomorrow. ^_^))

Before long, the pelting rains on the beach unhindered by the canopy of the jungle got to be too much for Ambrose. The fire was a lost cause. Not only was it out, but the drenching rains promised that any piece of dry wood on the Island was now wet and unusable for probably days after the rains let up. What a miserable situation.

Wrapping his arms around his body he dashed back into the jungle. Great, the rains were even succeeding in hindering his sense of smell. He had been so confident in his ability to find his way back to camp. But no - he could still do it... it wasn't far from here... Just North.

He started walking, still feeling down on himself - the hopes of rescue dashed against the rocks like the two poor castaways.

And then guilt. HE had been wandering the island for the past several days, looking for others - and for the most part he had been successful, but .... with the rain, and his absence, Angelina was probably lonely. He was lonely, too. As the days away from her passed, the absense itself seemed to be more apparent in his mind. He wanted to cling to her, protect her from the drenching rains, protect her from her fears. It was something... internal, something deep. Guided partially by memory, partially by scent, but mostly by pure instict, Ambrose returns to his 'packground'.

"Angelina?" He calls out, holding up a hand to his eyes, shielding them from the water that pours from the skies.

"Angelina!" He smiled when he saw her and went to her side, crawling, still drenched, into the lean-to. Only with a supreme effort of will was he able to resist the sudden urge to shake himself all over her and the inside of the comparably mildly damp shelter.

"I'm glad to see that you're alright" He said, embracing her, and nuzzling his face against her neck, smelling her deeply. "I missed you. I'm sorry I was gone so long." His apologies tumbled out.

She smelled so good to him- her smell amongst the damp earthy smells of the wet moss and wood and soil in the lean-to. He didn't want to leave her side; he wanted to be closer to her... "There were two ... castaways... washed up on the beach just now.... I tried to build a signal fire.... but then... the rains. Put the damn thing out." The disappointment was not hid from his voice, a subtle whine intermingling with his words.

He smiled lazily in response to her nuzzle, scooting up closesly to her side.

"I don't know how far away they fell overboard.... but they said it was a cruise liner. THat's... why I tried to light the fire. But... yeah... the rains. But maybe - maybe they'll find them. But... they seemed to imply skepticism that anyone noticed that they went over. One fell overboard, the other jumped after him." He shrugged.

"But I found a few others scattered around the Island... Antony... another woman who hasn't changed yet is on the West beach... she's seen Jamal... ran into a few others that I don't think you've met yet. I ... It woudln't surprise me if we're all here... around the island. I even went by the old duplex." A tug at the side of his face. "As much as this Island is a prisoin... at least before we had ... beds... showers... a cafeteria... soap." He sighed, running his hand through his hair, and tried to squeeze some of the water out of his hair and fur.

"How have you been doing..? I'm sorry it took me so long."

Ambrose shook his head. "No... you're not the only one." A small smile. "Though... Jamal... he changed, too. And he had been... well... human to the outside before they stuck us out here. I... I can't pretend to know what's really going on. I can guess... maybe the serums in our blood is making us change automatically... maybe the doctors are really still here and this is some stupid game. We've been through this before. And you know what? It doesn't matter. We can't do anything about it. But I love you, Angelina. I'll be here for you. And I want to spend timewith you." He put a paw-hand on her shoulder and met her eyes with a smile.

The longer he was around her, the less and less he wanted to go back out again - even if there was more he could be doing, more people he could be finding. It was raining, anyway. And she was here. SHe needed him, and he wanted to be by her. Close to her. It felt right.