Welcome to Gaia! ::

Thina walked back from the cafeteria. She was especially content, as the nice woman there let her cook along for her meal. Ever since arriving, Thina was a little uncomfortable with a stranger cooking her food, so it was a nice -if minor- comfort.

Many of her good feelings was overshadowed by the weather. The day could be considered a bad day for an island. There was a low overcast of clouds with interspersions of clear sunlight. The effect was daunting for Thina, for the shadows whispered that at any moment another of the human-turned monster inhabitants might spring out and maybe attack. What if that Jamal-character that Cody warned her about was watching her?

A slight breeze caused a bush to rustle especially loud, and Thina jumped at the sound with a slight squeak. The older woman held her chest as she forced herself to calm down.

There was a crash from down the road towards the cafeteria, like the sound of one of the waste buckets that lined the village had been overturned, and a streak of green fled from the loud shouts of one of the guards on duty. "I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU TO GET OUT OF THERE!" He bellowed, hurling a rock in the general direction of the fleeing, hopping... thing coming straight for the woman.

Thina about had a heart attack -in with her ample body and years of existence that was a threat, though she didn't know it- when she heard the crash. She spun around, her tattered under dress hem clinging to her shin, and gave a deer-in-the-headlights look at the 'thing' that hopped towards her.

Her mouth hung in a large 'O' as the only thought that went through her mind was: /Is that a frog?/

At the sight of the path cut off by the larger woman, Newt scrambled in mid-hop, tumbling head over heals to land in a dirty, amphibious heap in front of her. When the guard shouted again from a distance, He gave another frightened croak and hauled his legs around to get back up into a crouch, looking ready to spring into the underbrush.

It was hard for Thina to laugh, or even smile, at the humorous sight of a giant tumbling frog, but culture was deep and her people just did not show that relaxed expression often. Instead, she looked at the crouching creature with a quizzical expression, "Frog, yes?"

Before he could answer, she nodded her head at the yelling guard in the distance, "Philos - a friend?" Thina almost winced at the thought, doubting that friends would ever be so vocally abusive.

"Aaah...?" Newt flinched, bouncing on his haunches as he coiled back to jump, stopped himself and then resettled again, glancing from the strange woman- ANOTHER human! his third in a week! There must have recently been a new... shipment of subjects or something. The thought made the frog man's stomach cringe. Frog? Judging by her expression, she had already been briefed. Good. Good. Right. Just one less stress. The sounds of the guard shouting were dying away, and the frog's trembling began to slow, "Ah... er... y-yes.. er.. I m-mean no- I m-mean.. um... Y-yes... F-frog... er... KrrKIT! Ah... N-no to... er... his b-being my friend... I m-mean... um."

As if Thina didn't have enough troubles with English.... the stuttering words of the frog - or so, she thought he was a frog but his broken speech - made it much more difficult to translate. Just so she knew, the woman repeated for clarification, "You, frog. Him, not friend?" If that was right, she was relieved the yelling voice was no friend of his. Thina absently wondered what animal the loud voice belonged to.

"Thina," she pointed to herself in an introduction. Looking to him, she cocked her head to the side, "You are...?"

Thina was still having some belief-issues, so she reached forward to touch the frog, to see if he was real. At that moment, the woman recalled a tale some of the tourists joked about... something about frogs and kisses...

As she reached out, Newt flinched away, giving a little hop to land more in the taller grass. His green skin made it easier to blend in, rather than standing out on the path like a traffic light in the desert. "Ah... ah... N-new-new-newton, M-miss... er... Thina..." He murmured, glancing back up the hill as he huddled in the grass, as though terrified the guard might come after him still.

Thina stayed on the path, choosing to risk what was on the figure rather than the wildness that may be hidden in the grass. She watched him carefully, though, following with her eyes. Nodding her head in a greeting, Thina decided to question what he was so frightened from. Surely, the shadows of the grass was more scary than what the path and it's less numerous shades might hold. "Why are you..." she visibly searched for the word, "...afraid, Newton?"

"Ah... I... er... I'm in a... a... a sp-sp-spot of... of tr-trouble. Um. W-with... you know... them," Newt glanced back over, enormous eyes quivering as he looked her over for the first time closely. The sight of her ragged face made the frog man flinch with a startled croak.

"No, I don't know them," she shook her head. Thina knew about the island but none of the specifics. She thought Cody tried to explain them to her, but as he used words she did not know, the woman remained lost with the subject.

Thina knew the exact moment when Newton looked at her face by his reaction. She had lived with it for as long as she could remember, so it was easy to know what brought out that sort of response. Without thinking, her hand went to her hair, where she smoothed out some of the long graying hair to cover up the scars. It restricted her vision, and made the shadows worse, but hopefully it would make both of them a little more comfortable.

"What you do? To be such trouble?" she asked, trying to keep the conversation from her own disfiguring scars.

Newt bobbed, swallowing as he glanced up the path and down again and around for any sort of cameras, but if there were any, they were hidden even from his enormous eyes. "I... I... ah..." He looked up again, but felt embarrassed by making her have to cover her face because of his flinch, but he forced himself to keep eye contact for as long as he could. He straightened just a bit, throat inflating a little in an attempt to look impressive. "I... I attacked... a cou-cou-couple of... of guards."

Thina's eyes got large and worried. The woman took a step back, as if he was going to attack her as well. She couldn't imagine why anyone would attack a guard, as they usually had more power than you -usually in the form of guns- and only protected things. "What did... the guards do?" Thina asked, her voice quiet with concern. She wasn't sure she could successfully run away from him... he hopped along at a very quick speed.

"Ah.. w-well... th-they um... h-hit me a f-few t-times I th-think while I was... er... unconscious and th-then... w-well... er... I'm... um... it's.... " He floundered, having tried to impress but had obviously miscalculated. "W-well... I m-mean... it... it s-served them right!" He stammered, straightening again with a loud croak.

Thina listened, but took another step back. Out of the corner of her non-covered eye she tried to see if there was an escape route available for her. So, he attacked then because they beat him.... but why did they beat him? It was obvious Newton felt justified; would he feel justified in beating up a 'poor old woman' all alone and unprotected on an empty street? She didn't want to take the chance.

She was already more than a few steps away when Thina asked again, "Why they beated you?"

"B-be... because... " He deflated, huddling back in the grass, unsure of how to explain. It was evident now the woman's English wasn't very good, and between his stutter and accent he was sure he wasn't the easiest to understand. "Ah... I m-mean... I w-wasn't... it w-wasn't... I'm n-not... er..."

When Newton crouched, Thina jerked into action. She heard his words, but was already running away, obviously scared. The woman didn't scream for help, it was only the sound of her thick-soled shoes clicking on the ground that was Newton's answer.

Thina was really worried. She didn't know why the guards beat him up, but with her limited training about those situations she assumed the worse: that Newton had done something terrible to warrant the abuse... and she wasn't going to stick around to give him another chance at it.

As she fled, he gave an internal groan. He'd have to clear things up with the poor woman later, but figured he might want to practice his tapping first.

Dee picked her way through the woods towards the swamp, following the directions Newt had given her last week. She hoped the frog wouldn’t be mad at her for the delay, but immediately following their first encounter, Dee had had a few crazy days that made her want to stay inside and study, rather than brave the jungle again just yet. She brought with her the promised duffel, hammer, empty wine and beer bottles and soda cans, as well as some spare items from her first-aid kit. As usual, she was paying more attention to the sounds around her, as well as her babbling inner monologue, than to where she was going.

She didn’t notice the noise-making trip-wire until too late, and fell forward with a resounding OOOMPF as the canned cacophony raged around her.

And of course it took only a few moments before there was a heavy hopping noise through the underbrush in response to the tinkling cans, and soon a sharpened stick was aimed towards her. Once he got a good look at who the intruder was, though, the stick was lowered, "Ah... oh! Oh, it's... it's j-just you!" The frog man sat before her, setting his pointed stick down on the ground. He was still wearing the same muddy swim trunks he had been wearing the last time she had seen him, only far more faded and dirty.

Dee is quite startled at the prospect of being skewered, but quickly relaxes and hefts herself back up to her feet. “Yeah, sorry Newt…” she mutters with an apologetic grin. “I’m a little late. Nice, uh, nice noisemaker here…” She dusts herself off and gathers up the bag. “But I’ve got some stuff that I hope will help you.” She’s looking a little worn herself; her hair is disheveled and clothes in need of a wash. It doesn’t look as if she’s gotten much sleep in the past few nights.

"Ah-" Newt's eyes widened and he wet his thin green lips before offering her a webbed hand to help her stand. "Ah..it's... it's... it's alright, I f-f-figured... w-well... it's... a b-bit of a hike to come th-this far out and... w-well... I m-mean, I'm n-not er..." He wasn't sure what he was trying to say, but either way it left him feeling self conscious and guilty for forcing her to come out this far only to trip her with a poorly made rope. "Er... here, I... I've g-got a... a p-place you could sit!"

“Thanks, Newt… I’m interested to see what you’ve been up to,” Dee replies. “I mean, we’ve got to stay busy somehow, right?” She offers him the bag. “I thought you were doing some sort of weird outsider art.”

Newt accepted it excitedly, unzipping it to rummage through before leading her in deeper, "D-did you get the teacups??" At the comment about art, he gave an embarrassed sort of croak, "I... er... sup-sup-suppose... in a way I have."

Dee blushes. “Yeah…uh, well no… they’re two coffee mugs, but I figured that’d be close enough. I couldn’t get too many tea bags, but there’s a few in there. Earl Grey okay with you? There might be a chamomile, too..”

"Anything, anything's f-fine..." He sighed. It was like Christmas and his birthday all rolled into one.

The woman smiled. “Glad to be of assistance! Just, remember…” Dee added. “No more birds from my feeders. They’re *bird* feeders, not *Newt* feeders, eh?”

"I...I... I re-re-really do f-feel d-dreadful about that!" He stammered, gathering his booty up with another embarrassed KrrKIT!

She waves a hand. “It was just a misunderstanding, really…I didn’t mean to make you feel dreadful.” Dee tilts her head, watching him. “So… what *are* you doing with all this? Can I see?”

"Ah... y-yes! Y-yes, of... w-well, n-not everything b-but..um... er.... th-this way," that said, he slung the bag over his shoulder, hopping away from her towards the sounds of running water to lead her to the center of his swamp with it's short little waterfall and it's thicket of trees surrounding it.

“Ooo…” Swamps had always attracted Dee: they were cornucopias of animal life. One of her earliest memories was scooping up a jar-full of skanky swamp water to watch the little beasties swimming within. “When did you move here from the village? Why not just get a home on the lake?”

Newt shifted uncomfortably as he hopped along the bank to set his bag down next to a fallen log that served as a seat for guests. He had set a pair of boards he had dragged from the construction site down on a few rocks to form a make-shift table. It was from this table that he snatched up a kettle to hop towards the water to fill it, "Th-they n-never gave me one."

Dee regards him sympathetically and takes a seat on the log, nudging away a rather large centipede as she does so. “That’s terrible… how come? I mean, it seems like they’re pretty good at giving islanders what they need…usually.” Or, maybe I’m just talking out my a** again.

"I'm... n-not... not re-re-really an islander, I sup-sup-suppose," The kettle filled, he hopped back to where a small campfire had been kindled on a pile of rocks in the mud. If it grew out of control, the moment the flames dropped from the stack of stones, it would have been smothered by the moist earth and water below. A coffee can sat on the flames already, cooking something while he hadn't been paying attention. He pushed it to the side with a stick, setting the kettle down beside it before hopping back towards her to pull the mugs and teabags out carefully and methodically.

Dee frowned. “Well…you live on the island, you were experimented on…seems to make you an islander in my book.” She watched him, fascinated at his adaptations but confused as to why he was such an outcast. Maybe that was why he was such a nervous sort? Meanwhile, a large pill bug scuttles over her boots and a very large white-crowned pigeon alights in the canopy overhead, picking at a fruiting branch. The presence of wildlife eases her worry somewhat, but her nagging brain just won’t shut up.

"I d-don't really know for sure.... I've b-been making char-char-charcoal and... oh! Oh, th-this is... is my sp-spinning wheel-" He changed the subject quickly once his "table" was set, and hopped over to where the converted bicycle was propped up with rocks. "I... I've b-been using it to m-m-make rope!"

“Whoa, Newt…” Dee blinked, impressed, getting up to take a closer look. “That’s really clever. What are you making the rope out of?” She glances around, curious, trying to see what other projects he’s been up to.

"Th-the... the er... I... y-you advised b-bark so... so I used that, b-but... but I tried other th-things too! B-bark did work best though." He smiled, beaming proudly before the kettle began to whistle and he hopped back over to quickly take it off the coals.

“Great!” She returns the smile and then shuffles back to the log, taking a seat to watch her amphibian host at work. “Are you making more noise-traps?”

"Th-they m-make me feel safer... y-you know... knowing... when anyone's around," He wobbled upright to his feet to walk more carefully with the hot kettle back to the table to pour them both a mug of tea. Boiling it made the swamp water safe for humans, right?

Dee also found herself wondering about the water… but maybe she was better off not knowing. It looked like he had boiled it long enough… “Oh? Oh right… yeah. If there really a wild wolf-woman out there? Or is it just a story to keep us all in line?”

The kettle suddenly clattered to the ground, spilling boiling water across the bank and over Newt's bear, knobbly green toes and he leaped backward with a terrified shriek followed by a pained KrrKIT!

Dee gasps and leaps to her feet. “Oh no! Geeze… Newt, are you okay?” She stumbles over, flustered, trying to help.

He managed to spring to the side out of the way with only minor burns, but landed on his rear to cradle the wounded feet with a pained whimper. "Is... is... is the k-kettle alright?" he managed to squeak, large eyes watering with pain.

Dee kneels next to him, ignoring the damp ground and glancing over at the kettle. “The kettle!? It’s fine…it’s fine. It’s you I’m worried about—that was boiling water.” She leans forward, looking him over. “What happened?”

"I... it... m-my hand... m-must have been wet, it's... it's h-hard to... to grip things s-sometimes... th-the... the webbing g-gets in the way and... and it's all slimy!" He babbled, trying to ignore the burning from his longer toes.

She eyes him suspiciously. “I…see.” Dee looks down and winces. “Geeze, Newt…your poor toes.” She bites her lip, knowing that she can’t do anything with the little supplies she brought. But maybe…

Dee leans back and grabs a big handful of mulch and mud from the side of the pond. Wrinkling her nose at the less-than-stellar smell, she slathers it over the frog’s feet. In lieu of ice, this should help keep initial swelling down. “I’m no doctor…but that should help a little. Are there any aloe plants on the island?”

"Aloe? L-like... th-thick... er... pos-pos-possibly.. I m-might have... seen some..." Change the subject away from wolves, and he was happy as pie. "Th-this... this feels be-be-better already!"

Dee blinks and stares at him, smelly mud oozing from her hand. “Newt… was it something I said?” her voice lowers. “Was it about the wolf?”

He flinched, glancing down at his wounded foot and grit his teeth in a pained grimace.

“Ah-haaa,” Dee murmurs with a grim expression. “That *was* it, wasn’t it?” She leans back, planting her butt down and watching him carefully. “What happened to you, Newt? What is it about this wolf that has everyone absolutely terrified?”

"Wh-why... why do you th-think I make those... those alarm bells?" He answered finally, keeping his eyes anywhere but her. "Sh-she's... she's... "

Cowed and ashamed of pressing the point, Dee puts a hesitant hand on Newt’s froggy, slumped shoulder. “I’m sorry. You’ve …seen her, then? Did she start out like the rest of you?”

He was silent, rocking back and forth a few moments as he stirred the mud clumped over his burning toes. Finally, though, he nodded. "I... th-think so."

Dee remembered what the octopus had said about a feral wolf… ‘chipless?’ Something about that implant that they supposedly stick in you? Great, she thought. That could be me? “Has she…hurt anyone?” Dee asks in a tiny voice. Could someone lose themselves that completely?

To that, Newt didn't answer, tentatively testing his foot on the ground to see if it hurt to put pressure on it. When it was fine, he shifted to hop back towards the kettle, examining it as though checking some precious, delicate instrument he had dropped.

Dee sighs, now becoming all-too-aware of her soaked rump. After rinsing her hand, she stands up and heads back to the log, resting her other hand on Newt’s head for a moment as she goes past him.

He flinched at the touch, unused to small, friendly gestures like that. He hugged the still warm kettle to his chest, throat bouncing a moment, "...There's... there's ver-ver-very b-bad things on this island." He left it at that.

She looks sad when he flinches, but doesn’t take it personally. Dee resumes her perch on the log and rests her chin in one hand with a deep sigh. “I understand,” she says quietly, wondering how she can make up for this awful instance of ‘foot in mouth.’

"Ah... th-the... the tea!" He hurried to remove the bags before they seeped too long, happy for the distraction.

“Ah? AH! OH yes! The tea, Newt…save the tea!” Dee offers him a weak grin. “I’m sure it’s just fine. You’re quite a good host.”

His head dipped down bashfully as he set them down on the wooden table in little stained circles of dampness. "I... I d-don't know if I c-could tell if it was t-too strong... F-father w-woo-would always get so angry if I did it wrong-" He laughed quietly, amused by a distant thought.

“Well, Father isn’t here and I’m easy to please…so you’ve nothing to worry about.” She picks up a cup and takes a sip. While sterilized, the swamp water still has a…distinctive…taste, so in this case she welcomes a stronger tea. Dee manages not to grimace, though… the taste of the tea itself is quite good.

"S-sorry... th-there's no s-sugar," He couldn't help but smile a little. With his mug clutched tightly in one hand he clambered up onto the log beside her, sitting in a human fashion, as awkward as it felt now. "I... I c-could go look for honey for you if you'd like..." Before he knew what he was doing, a sharp, loud KrrKIT! KrrKIT! KrrKIT! KrrKIT! hammered from his mightily inflating throat. His eyes widened and his free hand slammed into his neck to try to keep it flat.

Dee jumped a little, but grinned broadly. “Don’t worry, Newt…I like it the way it is, th-thank you.” She glanced at him sideways, sipping her tea. Those croaks sounded awfully familiar. Luckily, she’s rusty with identifying types of amphibian calls…

He swallowed several times before he thought it was safe to speak again, "Ah... y-your... your welcome... I ... I haven't had t-tea with anyone in... in a r-rea-really long time, it's j-just... it's n-nice- krrKIT! Ah... ahem! I... KrrKIT! Yes. Um." He blew on the mug and took a careful sip.

“I haven’t had tea in a while either…this is really nice, Newt,” she takes a sip and pauses. “Ah’em.” Casually, she reaches up and picks a par-boiled mosquito larvae out of her teeth.

"I... I... I'm n-not... not one to ... usually have com-com-company," He started, trying to fill the awkward silence, "b-but I've had a lot lately- it s-seems ah... a lot more than... than... wh-when I had a pr-pr-pro-proper home! KrrKIT! KrrKIT! Ah- Er. Ahem!"

Dee nods politely and sips her tea. “Mostly good company, I hope. Do you have any sort of shelter or do you just hang out in the water? I bet that’s probably the best for your skin, eh?”

"Ah... y-yes..." He shifted, once again looking uneasy. "I... in... in the wa-wa-water... I've th-thought about... you know, an overhang or something but... it just d-doesn't seem... you know... necessary." He scratched at his scraggly hair, timidly trying to flatten it down against his green striped scalp.

Dee gave him a bashful smile, noting his discomfort. “Er… I’m sorry if that wasn’t the right thing to ask.” She sighs. “Don’t take it personally… I just have a bad habit of asking the sort of questions that are meant to quell my curiosity.”

"N-no! No... no, It's alright, I... I understand I m-mean... it's n-not like I'm... er... th-that is... I m-mean... y-you're... to... to you..."

The woman watches him for a moment, baffled. She laughs gently and puts a hand on his sloped, froggy shoulder. “Newt… it’s okay. Just take it one word at a time. I’m not going to just run away on you or something.”

He wet his lips with his sticky tongue, distracted from his stammering by the sight of a large blue dragonfly flitting over the water towards them, whisking over the lines of the grass and moss and log that Dee sat on. His tongue leaping from his mouth to snatch it up with a vicious crunch was as much of a natural impulse as breathing, and it took a moment before he even realized what he had done.

Dee, astonished, was frozen in mid-sip…a tiny rivulet of tea dribbling down her chin. “Wow...” she swallowed. The tone of her voice was one of awe—even though she later chided herself for seeming like such a kid (he was a frog! Of COURSE he could do that)—not one of distaste. “That was…pretty impressive. Nice aim.”

"Ah-" He glanced down, chewing and swallowing quickly as his brain caught up with his tongue, "I'm s-sorry- I... it... um... j-just... happens, um... I'm s-sorry, I c-can't always... it's... l-like sn-sneezing, b-but... but k-keeps me fed..."

For a passing moment, Dee considers asking him what it tasted like. “I see. And don’t apologize! I…suppose that if anything good came out of this ‘experiment’ it’d be improved reflexes.” She looks down at her cup, watching some little bits of tea leaves that had escaped the bag.

"Y-yes... yes, th-there's... that a bit... " He licked his large crooked teeth too try to dislodge a leg, shifting where he sat on the log to bring his legs up more comfortably. Sitting with his feet flat for too long made his legs tired. "I... I c-can... jump very well, you know."

She quirks her eyebrow at him and grins. “Can you now? Well I just may have to see that for myself.” Dee finishes her cup of tea and places it on the log next to her, then folds her hands in her lap and watches him ‘expectantly.’ She’s not doubting him, she just wants to see if he can loosen up a bit—the poor guy.

His mouth trembled into a smile as his throat inflated and with a croak he sprang from the log to land heavily in the mud a good ten feet away.

Dee laughs and applauds. “Bravo! Well done! I never should have questioned you.”

"KrrKIT!" He tried to speak, but his mouth and throat were occupied as another wave of rigid, pointed croaks erupted from those twin sacks of air. He managed to stop them after an embarrassing amount, swallowing the rest to squat panting. Oh... oh blast! He cleared his throat, trying to pretend he hadn't just spewed out an obscene display, as far as amphibian standards went. "It... it's n-not m-much... I'm... I'm st-still terribly clumsy..."

She snorts and shakes her head. “Newt, you’re probably as graceful as a ballet dancer compared to me. I could out-clumsify you any day.” Dee peers at him as if daring him to challenge her reign as Queen Klutz. But…just what’s with those urgent croaks? He wasn’t doing those before…maybe it’s just part of his change?

"W-well... well... I... I nearly s-set the labs on f-fire n-no less than ten times by accident," He offered to back up that challenge to her throne.

“Is that being a klutz or just subconsciously trying to do us all a favor?” Dee grins. “Once I slipped and landed on a yellow-lipped sea krait (a really venomous snake, but thankfully they’re not aggressive) one while hiking on the shore of a small Indonesian island. I’ve been bitten by non-venomous snakes and lizards more times than I can count simply because I’m not quick enough to grab them right…” She holds up her hands, wiggling her slender fingers. The backs of her palms and her forearms are criss-crossed with fine scars.

He regarded the scars for a moment, throat beginning to puff out, but he quickly deflated it with a breath, "It's m-m-my fault.... someone here on the island d-do-doesn't know what they're be-be-becoming... and n-nor do the labs... because I accidentally destroyed the l-l-label on their serum base." To that, he gave a little laugh.

“I…well… that’s unfortunate, but I guess they’ll find out soon enough, huh?” She gives him an uncomfortable grin. “And, uh, speaking of fire—or the possibility of one--I once spilled an entire five-gallon jug of aviation fuel all over the inside of a hangar. Brilliant move, that.”

"D-did anyone get hurt?" He tried to imagine what a stray cigarette might have done to the situation.

“Hmm? Oh, oh no… except for a wee ding in my pocketbook. That stuff’s expensive.” Dee replies. “Eh, perhaps the finish of the floor got a little warped, but that was about it. I guess we’re both clumsy, huh?”

"Ah... ahahah... y-yes, I sup-suppose so..." He was here to begin with because he was clumsy, wasn't he? But... he smiled anyway. He liked this new friend he had made. She was nice and patient and helpful... As he thought, his throat inflated once more and the string of hammer-strike-like croaks erupted from his wide flat maw. His hands rose up to try to keep his sacks flat with a slap in in the process hopefully keep the croaks at bay as well.

Dee winces as Newt smacks himself. “Hey now…take it easy. I don’t mind if you make noise. It’s not like you asked to be turned into frog, so there’s not much you can do.” She has no idea that his sharp croaks aren’t exactly a random noise.

"I.... " He swallowed, panting once again before catching his breath and calmed himself down again. "I'm... I wasn't always... y-you know... f-f-fat. J-just... just so you know..." He fidgeted in the mud before hopping back to the log.

“Fat? Newt…” Dee sputters. “You’re not ‘fat’ now. You’re not.. well...I don’t think you…you can’t compare yourself to what you used to be—er, uh, insofar as body fat goes.” How do you politely say ‘You’re not human anymore…so you’re not ‘human fat’’?

"I... I w-was really tall," He went on, sitting down beside her again while twisting his webbed fingers, "and... and... and had a l-lot of... of r-really... really d-dark curly hair."

Dee stares at him, and it takes a few slow blinks before she starts to realize what he’s trying to do. Whether he’s just pining or trying to impress her, either way her stomach drops in sympathy. “I like dark, curly hair… but emerald green skin is pretty neat, too.. There’s nothing wrong with short fellas either,” she offers hopefully.

"Th-the ch-changes... didn't do much for my over b-b-bite, though," He smiled at that, glancing up at her with a shy look as though this was a funny joke of some sort.

“Meh,” Dee waves her hand. “It’s just part of your charm.” She places a hand on his head, playfully rubbing his sparse hair as she smiles, happy to see him lighten up.

"You... you know... I... I d-don't mind..." He glanced down at his feet to prod at the burned toe carefully, "Er... your... your questions, I mean." He kept the tapping fingers hidden to his side, counting the rhythm to speak to.

“Well,” she replies after a moment, her hand rejoining the other in her lap. “Then…here’s one. Why are you so hard on yourself?” As if you’re one to talk, woman. “And whoever was so nasty to you deserves to be fed to the w—uh, I mean, should be taken out behind the sheds and shot.”

He flinched, not the sort of question he had been expecting, and immediately looked away, "What... what do you m-m-m-mean?"

“I mean, you always look as if someone’s about to …” she trails off, noticing just *how* uncomfortable he looks. “Uh, never mind.” She leans against him, nudging with one shoulder. “How’s this… a nature-type question. Do you notice that you can hold your breath underwater longer now? Can you…uh…absorb oxygen through your skin like other amphibians?”

"Ah... y-yes, actually," He lowered his head, his heart racing as she leaned against him, his throat inflating and trembling although he managed to keep the croaks inside. "It's... it's a ver-ver-very strange sensation really..."

Dee leans away again to look at him. “Yeah, I bet. That’s something I have to say I envy… my favorite dreams are the ones where I’m able to breathe underwater. Is there anything about your changes that you do like? The jumping?”

"I... w-well... it's... it's n-nice to be so quick... b-but... but yes, the... the swimming's very lovely..." He pursed his lips, looking down at his feet as he scratched at his scraggly hair remnants.

“And pond life is so interesting! What all do you have in your little lake? I bet it’s cool to be able to see things from an aquanaut’s perspective,” Dee chatters, starting to get into that ‘mode’ again.

Newt had never heard the term aquanaut before, but he could give a good guess as to what it meant. He smiled shyly, "W-well... it's... it's n-not as... as c-clear as the lake, but but... there are ah... well, l-lots of snakes and... and other frogs and sm-small little... fish and things," he offered. "I'm j-just glad there aren't any... y-you know, c-croc-croc-crocodiles or alligators or l-large... s-swampy creatures with t-teeth and ah- krrKIT! KrrKIT! krrKIT! krrKIT!" He knew he was babbling when the mating call took over and wouldn't stop until he stopped his throat with both hands.

Dee’s grin widens as Newt croaks. The krrKIT is particularly endearing, but she can’t put a finger on why. “That’s neat, yeah! Don’t worry, by the way…I think you’re at the top of the food chain as far as most of the creatures around the pond are concerned. You seem pretty clever, too!”

If he could have blushed, Newt would have been scarlet. He smiled, beaming down at his large froggy feet with a demure twist of his hands, "N-not that c-clever..."

"Could’ve fooled me. I mean, the traps…the way you’re making it on your own…things like that say ‘clever’.” She elbows him gently, just trying to help him build self-esteem. “Instinct aside, that’s pretty neat.”

He fidgeted, growing antsier the kinder her words got. Instances like this didn't happen very often for Newton Filinas, and he wasn't quite sure what to make of it all. He had learned that while most people were generally hostile and threatening, some were very nice as well, and pleasant to speak to. People like the two bird boys, the penguin and... the other hadn't been far enough along for him to have known much, and Liamh and Gaius had all been very nice overall. They were his friends. He didn't see them very often, but he would hope that they were as fond of him as he was of them. Dee... was different, though. He hadn't felt like this since hunting for worms with a certain Japanese gecko, and it made him anxious. His body was responding in ways that didn't seem socially acceptable, and he found himself holding his breath when that feeling of another croaking attack bubbled up in his wide, squishy belly.

She seemed generally interested in him, and to a man who had been generally ignored for a quarter of a century, this was a bit like a puppy that had been kicked too many times finally being offered a biscuit. He tentatively poked at his toes to see if it still hurt and gave a little hiss when it did. "It k-keeps me busy," He managed weakly.

The woman nods. “That seems to be the most any of the folks here can do—keep busy, despite it all.”

Dee was also becoming fonder of Newt. She saw a lot of herself in his social graces, or lack thereof, and she sympathized with him. When she first learned of the true nature of the island, she expected to be more repulsed—on an instinctual level—by her fellow islanders, but the opposite was actually the case. (She was still a bit disturbed by Billy’s meeting in particular. It can’t be normal, nor can it be blamed on the wine, that she was a little turned on by the encounter.

She wasn’t sure yet if her attraction to Newt was *that* sort of thing, but she definitely enjoyed his company.

"Y-you... did you hear about the th-th-theater?" He straightened, "Ah... G-gaius is... is l-leading the... the construction but there's other th-things happening and lots of p-people are involved and... and it m-m-might be fun... you know... to... k-keep us b-busy, I d-don't know, I thought you'd be interested..." he caught the croaks with a string of banter this time, glancing around suddenly for his cold tea he had misplaced during their talk.

“Oh, that’s right!” she sits up. “The octopus fella mentioned it. I’ve been meaning to check it out when I felt more…uh..social. I tend to get a little hermit-y sometimes, too. How’s it coming, do you know?”

"Ah... n-no... I'm... ah... a b-bit... er..." He glanced around his own secluded swamp and fidgeted in his crouch. "Ah... wh-what... what... what about you? Wh-where... wh-where are you from? What... ah... I m-mean... y-you s-sound ah... " He hesitated, trying to place her accent, but wary to offend.

“Born and raised in Washington state, USA, though I’ve traveled far and wide,” she replies. “You?”

"I'm... w-well, I d-don't suppose you'd know it... j-just... in the West Midlands t-towards wales... in ah... England." Determined to learn more about his new friend, he quickly added, "Wh-what was it like there?"

“Oooh! That explains your great accent.” Dee sniffs and looks thoughtful. “The Pacific northwest of the US is beautiful… temperate rain-forest area, you know. Lots of huge evergreen trees, mountains, gorgeous rocky coasts…” She starts to get a wistful and sad expression.

"S-sounds lovely," He smiled, watching the enthusiasm on her face. "It... ah... r-rained a lot wh-where we lived... b-but... but there was some w-woods and... a cr-creek that ran behind our house." Ironically, he had spent a good time in his boy-hood catching frogs

“It was,” she replies quietly. “Er, it IS. It’s very lovely. Your home sounds quite nice, too. I can relate to the rain. We had showers for almost half the year, but you got used to it. Or you went crazy.”

"Wh-what... what s-sorts of th-things d-did you do?" He hopped to settle in the mud more comfortably while they talked, so he could watch her without craning his neck.

Dee half-smiles. “Nature guide, mostly… though I always thought of myself as something more. I was lucky enough to come from a wealthy family, and I did a lot of travel, collected a lot of books, went to a lot of conferences… I fancied myself a biologist of sorts.” She perks up a bit. “I have an airplane, too…did I tell you that? It’s a restored WW2 sea plane, though now I doubt I’ll ever see her again.”

"An... an airplane?" He wondered if she was joking, trying to impress him like he had tried to impress Alexa not so long ago. "Wh-what... l-like... a whole airplane?"

Dee laughs. “Of course, silly! It’s a whole airplane.” She blushes a bit and reaches into her back pocket, taking out her wallet. “How geeky is this? I carry a picture of it with me…I loved it so much. Er…even though I didn’t have my official pilot’s license, I still flew it. Bad Dee.” She offers the picture to Newt. It shows a medium-sized, twin-engine amphibian plane with vintage military markings tied to a pier.

"I... I've only ever been in an airplane once," He murmured, in awe as he took the photo carefully to hold it up to his enormous eyes. "I... I c-can't imagine how... how fun it m-must be to actually... "

“…fly one? It’s pretty great,” she sighs. “I wish I could have done it one more time before…well, you know. Maybe I can bribe the helicopter pilot for one last ride with what cash I have left.” Dee seems genuinely sad now…some realizations are hard-hitting their way home today.

"If... you had a p-plane, w-woo-would you fly away from here? I know I w-woo-would."

“Hooo-yeah, you bet I would,” Dee growls. “But I wanted to be polite and I took Feral Labs up on their offer to fly me themselves. Personal helicopter limo! Sigh. So now she’s all by herself back at our house in Washington… and my folks will probably end up storing her somewhere once they’ve sufficiently freaked out over my disappearance.” She rubs her temples. “I can’t imagine what they’ll be like once they realize I’ve vanished…I feel awful for them. They’re not the overly-doting types, but they’re still good people.”

Newt fell silent at the mention of family, wondering if his father even thought about where he might be, or cared. Probably not. He shouldn't let it bother him, but it was difficult not to, all things considered. The letters were tucked in a cave somewhere, dry and mostly unopened. He never read them. He never got a single one. It had been pointless. "D-do you think they'll think you're d-dead?"

“I dunno…Maybe I shouldn’t be thinking about this right now, it’s more than a little depressing.” She offers him a sad smile. “So enough about my mishaps…What did you used to do, Newt? You mentioned the labs…did you work here?”

"Hmm?" He glanced up, blinking as he digested the question, and his throat jiggled in a nervous fashion, "I.. y-yes... I... I d-did."

“What..did you used to do here exactly?” she asks guardedly. “You don’t seem to be the mad scientist type.”

That made him glance down. Should he tell her the truth? What would she think? Would she care? "I... I..." He didn't want to lie to her. "W-w-was... a custodian." He braced himself for her reaction.

Her reaction? Relief. “Oh thank goodness… I was afraid for a moment that you were one of the techs or someone else responsible for all this frankensteinian oddness.” She pats his back. “Poor guy…why’d they do this to you?”

"I... It... it w-wasn't that I couldn't do it! I c-could.. I j-just... m-made a lot of st-stupid m-mistakes and... and I'm a little.. y-you know, w-with that m-mixed up serum and... all those other m-mess ups and...!"

She waves her hands again. “Newt…Newt, calm down. Everyone makes stupid mistakes. EVERYONE. Don’t kick yourself so hard.”

"H-he would have s-said I b-brought this on m-myself and he'd be r-right, is wh-what he'd be!" He shook his head, huddling down in his frog-like posture as though he could be safer in a tight, coiled-springed crouch.

“This, Newt? This is pretty harsh punishment, in a matter of speaking. You’ve adapted well, but it’s not your fault that you worked for an crazy geneticist. Worst case scenario, you should have just been fired and sent home…not changed into a whole ‘nother species. Jeeze.” Dee gently nudges him again.

The frog tried to keep in the tears, but it was like holding back a broken dam. "I j-just... n-never do anything RIGHT! I t-try but it all g-goes wr-wrong and I t-try to F-f-f-f-FIX it b-but it j-just gets w-worse and th-then I'm in t-trouble again and I HATE b-being in trouble!" He moaned, unable to contain himself.

Dee gasped. “Newt! Newt…hey…HEY! Calm down! I’m sorry! What’d I say? I’m sorry!” Flustered and startled, she looks around for anyone—anyTHING—she could use to calm the frog-man. “You’re not in trouble now! You’re just fine! Please…” Desperate, she wraps her arms around the creature and hugs him. “Please calm down.”

He flinched, body stiffening before he sprang backwards out of her grip with a startled croak, panting heavily as he blinked and tried to get himself under control again, "S-sorry! I'm s-sorry... I'm... I'm..." He swallowed, seething in embarrassment.

Still shaken, it takes Dee a while before she catches her breath. “Newt… just Calm. Down.” The woman fixes him with a stern, but well-meaning—stare. “You’re not in trouble now…and I’ll try my best to make sure you don’t get in trouble again. And I promise…if anyone tries to mess with you, they’ll have to get through me first.” Her voice softens. “Please…just come back here and sit down.”

He swallowed, thick, wet tears dribbling from his flat green face. He looked at her, regarding her invitation. Ultimately, though, panic set in and he hopped towards the dying embers of his fire-pit, and picked up the coffee can by lifting it with a stick through the holes he had poked into the top. "It's... it's g-getting late... I d-don't know if it's s-safe to g-go back this f-far if it's t-too dark..."

Defeated, Dee sighed and leaned back, looking up at the sky. “Yeah…you’re probably right. I can camp here for the night. I’ve had to sleep in swamps before, I can do it again.” See? She wasn’t just a tourist. She could ‘rough it’ if she had to!

The can nearly slipped from the stick, but he caught it with another and spilled the freshly cooked charcoal down onto the fire, "C-c-camp here? Wh-what... sp-sp-sp-spend the... the... krrrKIT! KrrKIT! Ah... n-night?" His voice even broken. "I d-don't know, it's all w-wet and b-boggy and th-there's n-no real... " He had hopes to send her on her way, buy himself some privacy to feel like a complete fool and wallow in self hatred and make rope until his soft amphibious hands hurt.

She blinked and nodded. “Yeees… here. Well, not in your living room of course, but nearby...where it’s drier. You’d still have your privacy, but I’d like to be where I could hear your noisemakers. If there are dangerous ‘freelancers’ out there, I shouldn’t be so reckless with where and how I travel. Is…is that okay?”

He shifted, glancing up at her then down to the ground where the little cut pieces of wood waited at his feet to be added to the can to prepare for the next batch. "I... I have a b-b-bed spring... I could put the p-planks from my table on top if y-you'd like... m-make a s-sort of b-bed perhaps? I used to have sh-sheets but I ripped them up, but I do still have a b-blanket if you'd l-like it..."

“Oh…well, just the blanket if you’re not using it. That’d be fine, thank you. Otherwise I can curl up next to a tree… I’ve done it before, and it’s a warm climate…” She watches him and starts to get a little worried. Maybe she should’ve gone back to the village after all…

"N-no... no... I... it... I've n-never..." He opened his mouth and closed it a few times, but ultimately returned to tending to his energy supply, "I ah... n-need to gather s-some f-firewood, but w-we could b-build up the f-fire a little, maybe? F-for the light for you..."

Dee smiles and nods. “Sure…any sort of light nearby would be good. I’ll help ya with the firewood if you’d like?"

"Ah... th-that'd be won-won-wonderful!" He was having a guest over! For the night! The croaks bubbled up once again, and he held his breath as he hopped around the edge of the water towards the patch of rocks where he stored things out of the weather nearby.

The woman blinks and smiles even wider, glad to see Newt cheer up again. “Allrighty, then. Just tell me what you need me to do, boss.” Dee follows him around to his dry spot to help him with the chore.

"I d-don't really... have anything to offer b-besides... t-tea, I'm afraid... th-there's the r-river just th-that way some if you w-want fresher water..." He offered, "I... d-don't suppose you'd t-take grubs for a sn-snack..."

Dee snickers. “Naw…I’ve had them before, but that was when they were sauteed in white-wine sauce at one of those ‘theme restaurants.’ I’d say that a river would be a good choice. Maybe we can catch some fish?”

"I d-don't have any f-fishing line... I used to have a n-nice collection I had f-found of broken lines and th-things! B-but... but they were confiscated when they emptied out my d-d-du-du-duplex." He frowned, tending to the fire to make sure it would stay under control and surrounded by water while they left the camp. He had a spare can or two he had converted into little buckets to bring along, and held them up as he hopped towards her, "W-would these help?"

“They’re better than nothing! I’m sure we can improvise.” She smiles and gives a little half-bow, as if opening the door for him. “Lead the way!”

He smiled, offering them up to her to carry so he could lead the way in long leaps through the jungle along the creek until it rejoined with the river.

Dee takes up the cans and follows. She’s feeling better again, and even becomes comfortable enough to let the lush scenery sink in as they travel past.

Newt lead her off, and the evening pressed on until it did indeed grow dark under the canopy of the trees. The stars were easy to see this far away from the village in the dark with only Newt's slowly glowing coals for light, and the few times the alarms had gone off had simply prooven to be a handful of boar running by. Newt didn't like the boar. They were difficult to get away from when he was too far from the water, and he had gotten trampled far too many times for his liking.

When daylight came, Newt stirred in the water of the creek, and grumbled as he reached to rub at the back of his arm. He lifted his head, immediately glancing around for any sign of his guest.

Dee was curled up on the blanket alongside the creek. Half the blanket she held around herself, and from Newt’s angle she would resemble a human taco. (Now *that’s* one odd serum.) She had slept like a rock, not even stirring when Newt’s noisemakers were tripped. As the dampness of the morning sets in, she starts to move slowly in her impromptu bed, mumbling drowsily to herself.

He relaxed when he saw her, glancing around the gray morning blearily before frowning. He could have sworn there had been a pile of his home spun rope just across the bank from a trap he had needed to rehang. He shifted in the water, stretching a moment and leaped up onto the bank on the other side of the sleeping human to go investigate.

Dee rolled over, her back to Newt, as she mumbled and dreamed a surreal early-morning type scenario. “MMmgh… mom…put down the squid… dad wants his grits in the tire…”

Curiously, Newt hopped down the bank to the squishier grounds of the pond, frowning as he did so. There were footprints everywhere, boots deep in mud, and more importantly, there was a complete absence of some very important things. "Ah-!" His spinning wheel- Cody's bike was GONE! His table, his fire pit dismantled, the traps and mounds of rope all gone! In a panic, he leapt about the bank, panting and croaking and whimpering in growing alarm, "N-no... no no no! D-dee! Dee!!"

Dee twitched and mumbled, then streeeetched slowly and hauled herself into a sitting-up position, looking around in a daze. Her hair stood out at all angles and her face was screwed up in a squint as she tried to pinpoint the noise. “Hmmmm? Newt? What time is it?”

"Y-you... you d-didn't... do anything about the... I d-don't... th-they m-must.. all m-my... it!!" He sputtered, leaping towards her only to veer off and check again to be sure. STILL things were missing! The forest was empty- he should have been woken by the alarms! A boar couldn't have ripped them down and carted them off without him hearing!

A cold feeling settled in Dee’s stomach as she finally registered the panic in Newt’s voice. “W-what!? Newt…what happened?” Shakily, she grabbed her glasses and got to her feet. As the situation sunk in, she gasped with her hands over her mouth. “Oh no… what in the world… Newt, your things…”

His hand went around to the back of his stinging arm as a dull throbbing ache grew in his head. "They... It... it h-had to have b-been... it... " Suddenly his stomach twisted, flip flopping as the details clicked into place. "N-no.... NO th-that's not FAIR! TH-THAT'S NOT FAIR!! I w-wasn't d-doing anything wrong! I w-was j-just making rope!!" He cried, leaping back towards the empty spot that used to house his wheel. The things Dee had brought him, his kettle, his mugs were all gone, and in it's place a feverish throbbing pressure in his skull.

The cold feeling turned to a sickly ache, and Dee had to stagger over to the nearest tree to steady herself. Confusion and anger and sympathy all roiled in to join the nauseating ball of worry. She whined under her breath. “No… Oh no, Newt… I’m so sorry…” What if this was her fault? What if someone had followed her here? What if SHE was the one who got him in trouble by giving him the hammer? “No no no…”

"I d-didn't do anything WRONG th-this time!! Why??" He moaned out to the trees, knowing there had to be a camera or a microphone SOMEWHERE. His headache grew in intensity the more upset he got, and the ground seemed to spin as he cradled it in his arms. "It's n-not FAIR! Wh-what do they w-wan-wan-WANT from me??"

Dee flinched and groaned, her own head starting to pound from standing up so quick. The nape of her neck was sore as hell, too… then again, she DID sleep on the ground last night. “I’m so sorry…so sorry…” she kept repeating, feeling dizzy and helpless. Slowly, she went from tree to tree, shuffling closer to the stricken frogman.

He gave a whimper, lifting his arm to try to get a better look at the hot green welt. "N-no... no... no! N-not...I'm... I'm s-sorry! I'm... I d-don't..."

The woman squints again and has to rub some gunk out of her eyes before she is able to focus on the welt. When she does, an unpleasant lump begins to rise in her throat as she recalls Richard’s ordeal. “You don’t mean… Oh NO. Newt!? Oh shiiiit.”

With the surging pain, his shouts ended and turned into a quiet sort of whimpering as he crouched down with his head in his arms, ankle-deep in mud.

“Newt? I’m coming over, okay? Don’t…uh… don’t be frightened.” Dee swallowed and edged closer to him, stretching out one hand to touch him lightly on his back.

"I.. I... I th-think..." he squeaked miserably, "D-don't... d-don't ah... I..." It was all so sudden. His things were gone- his head was pounding. He couldn't think. He could barely see. He didn't think anything was *happening*.... at least, it didn't seem like anything was happening, but the mark on his arm was unmistakable.

She glances down at his arm, then moves around and squats beside him, trying to look him in the eye. “Newt? Hey… hey, buddy…it’s…they’re just things. We can replace them. I know we can… but, are you okay?”

"Ah..." He whimpered, eyes swiveling over his hands to peer up at her-teary eyed, "Th-they t-took th-them away before... they.... th-they always.... th-they t-take everything... th-they..." His breathing quickened and he gave another pained whimper as there was another pulsating wave of pressure.

Dee’s heart ached for him, and her hand moved to his shoulder, squeezing gently. “I don’t know what to say, Newt. I’m so sorry. I’ll help you rebuild… I will…”

There was a sudden dull creaking noise that was quickly drowned out by a terrified, pain cry from the frog man as he clutched at his head tighter.

As if stricken by an electric shock, Dee jerks backwards, her eyes wide. That sound… that horrid HORRID sound of live, twisting flesh… Just like with Richard. And that scream… “No…not Newt…not this poor thing…” she whimpers to herself.

He cried out pained croaks and human screams as his skull slowly widened. He could only gasp and pant and groan and writhe in the mud as his eyes pushed further apart. His skin felt like it was on fire, the mud icy cold against it. The sounds of creaking, twisting bones were mostly drowned out by his frantic cries. It all happened slowly- painfully slowly. Minutes went by before there was anything noticeable change, his skin contorting away from his eyes as they slowly crept their way around his flattening skull.

Dee had seen a lot of strange wildlife and natural gore in her travels…but nothing had prepared her for this. Even on an empty stomach, she had to fight the urge to get sick. While Richard’s change had been quick and traumatic, this was slow and torturous. She did what she could for Newt, gently nudging and talking to him when his changes seemed to slow. All she could do when he cried out was hold him…but she worried that even that was painful.

An hour went by, and with a terrible creaking lurch, the bones of his jaws pushing forward into a snout before his lips and skin had a chance to catch up. He panted frantically as the changes subsided for a moment long enough for him to gasp frantically and pray they weren't over yet. As her hand touched his head, the remains of the hair fell free in wiry clumps around her fingers. His throat wobbled, air hissing past his exposed gums and teeth as he grabbed for her arm frantically.

She swallowed hard as the last remnants of his hair fell from her fingers, then held him tighter, helping through this newest spurt. Dee whispered urgently to him, telling him that it would be okay, that it would be over soon and they could go fishing again… that he was so clever for bringing those cans, they were useful after all! She told him again that she would help him as much as she could. She still had plenty of bottles and cans…Newt could start again. She’d help him start again as many times as it took.

He listened, concentrating on her voice despite his uncontrollable trembling and panted cries. Time crept by, the sun burning off the morning haze and the morning birds had quieted their songs so the afternoon crowds could give their calls. His shoulders shifted in her grip, the shape of his body rounding and shifting as his humanity slowly vanished. His cries were replaced with shrill, croak-like noises as the final snaps, cracks and pops convulsed, and with a jolt his eyes dilated and he jerked from her grip with a sharp KrrKIT!! He landed heavily yards away in a sick, sore heap.

Dee didn’t yelp this time as Newt leaped away, and was slow to approach him. He looked so different…his face before had been human in comparison, now it was almost completely amphibian. Genus Rana, she thought to herself, finally able to get a general picture of what sort of frog he was based upon. But even her scientific curiosity was quiet now that she was in the midst of a friends’ terrible suffering. She edged closer to him. “Newt?”

The frog blinked at her, trembling as he crouched down with it's belly against the mud, staring at her with one eye and then the other. It's body tensed, as though considering whether or not this other creature was a threat.

Dee froze, worrying that Newt’s brain might not be the same either… what if he had become feral? “Newt, it’s me. Diane. Uh, Dee, do you remember? I brought you the tea and the bottles, and a duffel bag. I’m not going to hurt you.” Once again she crouched and sat upon the ground, making her profile smaller and hoping she presented less of a threat. Please remember…

He flinched back, throat jumping as his mouth parted threateningly. The frog was in pain, head still throbbing and skin burning with the fever of his finishing touches. There was an awkwardness in his limbs, remnant human joints that made the amphibious posture a little awkward when flat against the ground like this, but his brain was on autopilot.

KRRKIT! KRRKIT! The croaks stopped as a pained shudder ran through him, throat aching from the changes in his jaws.

The other islander inched back and looked deeply saddened when Newt gaped at her. “You can’t understand me, can you? Damn…” she whispers. She doesn’t know if this is normal--just a side-effect—or if this is permanent. “Thank you for the tea, Newt. It was very good, all things considered.”

He flinched at the words, giving a squeaking croaking noise. She was familiar- the words were familiar, but he couldn't think, everything was moving, the birds up in the trees twittering, the buzzing of nearby insects, the splashing of the pond. He was over whelmed! Everything ached, especially his head and so he kept flat against the ground, hands shaking as they lifted to touch the end of his snout.

Dee slumped, saddened that she couldn’t go over and hold her friend…but in doing so she’d probably scare him to death. She hugged her knees up to her chin and simply watched him. She was hurting, too. Not her neck, which had ceased aching some time ago, but something else deep down…something she hadn’t felt for another person in a long, long time. Loyalty and responsibility for her fellows… Someone she trusted and wanted to protect.

His bulbous eyes blinked as he panted, trembling as he shifted and tried to make sense of everything. He finally had to close his eyes again tightly. Everything looked... different. Their new position and angles gave him a very startlingly different perspective, and his throbbing skull couldn't handle it just yet. "Ah...KrrKIT!" He tried to speak, but his neck was aching and he wasn't sure how to form words with his changed mouth. He trembled and fidgeted, making anxious noises in the back of his throat in the process.

She watched him closely, hoping for some sign—ANY sign—that he was coming back to his senses. Dee couldn’t possibly imagine what he must be seeing or hearing, and in a tiny, tiny way she envied him. Said envy turned quickly back into despair as Newt fidgeted and whimpered, and she tried quietly talking to him again.

It took several false starts before he managed to croak out a sound that was half a word, "D-d-dee?" What part was voice trembled anxiously until it broke into a ribbiting noise.

Her heart lept and her eyes welled up with tears. “Newt! Yeah, it’s me! Oh thank goodness…” she crawled closer, chewing her lower lip. “How are you doing, guy? W-welcome back. D-don’t push yourself. Just try and relax.”

"Huh... hu-hurts...krrKIT!" He whimpered, opening one eye experimentally.

A few tears roll down her cheeks and she wipes them away with the back of one hand. “Uh-huh… I bet. But you did so well, and you’re okay now… I think you’re all done,” she chatters gently and inches forward until she’s right next to him.

He gripped at the mud, his own inhuman eyes watering and tearing up as he sat up sorely, "Fff..." He turned his eye to look back at the changed slope of his body, working to regain some control over his mouth and the sounds that came out, "Fff-frog..." His head ached, pounding and throbbing as his brain slowly adapted to the shape it had been forced into.

“I’m afraid so, hon,” Dee sighs with a sad smile, reaching out and touching his cheek, fingers barely making contact. “But…a handsome frog, you know?”
He flinched away from her touch, his skin sensitive and sore from it's general thinning and a threatened croak erupted from his throat.

“Oh..oh, Newt, I’m sorry…” Her hand quickly darts away and she fights the urge to start bawling. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I just wish there was something I could do.”

He gave a whine, praying the pain would pass, that he could think again, but he could barely try to comprehend what he must look like, sound like, seem like. He took a trembling, crawling step towards her, nudging her arm with his aching nose.

And now Dee does start to cry. “Aww, N-newt…” she stammers as she touches his nearest webbed foot. “You poor sweet thing. I…I have some Tylenol here.” She blinks through tears and roots around in her pocket until she pulls out four little red and yellow pills. “It’s not much, but it could h-help..”

"Th-th-thank.... Th-tha-KITT!" He managed, leaning against her like a timid, beaten dog. But he was a frog. A giant, trembling frog with streams of wetness sliding down his slimy skin. He closed his eyes again tightly.

“You’re welcome, Newt. A-anything I can do.” She puts an arm around him, just barely touching his tender, thin skin. Dee then leans her forehead against his cheek, her eyes closing as well. “It’ll be okay...” she whispers, barely breathing.

He whimpered again, huddling against her timidly. She was a friend. She was a friend, he could comprehend that much. Dee. Human friend. He was Newt. He could hear buzzing, lots of buzzing, there were things to eat nearby. He hurt, though, too sore to go find food. Just sit, sit and be safe. Safe with Dee. The pain would go and he'd be able to think clearer.

Dee sat with him, aching from holding in the worst of her spasming sobs. She would mumble to him now and then, much like she did when he was changing. Her voice was probably barely audible over all the buzzing, but she whispered to him nonetheless. Soon, she trailed off and lightly kissed him on his snout, then leaned back and opened her hand to offer him the Tylenol.

He gave a little noise, cocking his head before opening his mouth as wide as he could for her to feed them to him. That was right... Dee was nice... very nice to him. The more his battered brain tried to remember the facts, his more his posture perked and before long a fresh string of croaks erupted from his inflating throat sacks.

Dee gave a weak laugh and wiped her eyes. “Atta boy. Give those a little time to kick in.” She sits back, exhausted and still a little sick with worry.

He swallowed, throat trembling a moment before a fresh string of pointed croaks erupted in a desperate attempt to win her attention. He half hopped, half hobbled to sit beside her and lean against her arm, sore skin and all. He couldn't think clearly, but he was coherent enough to want the comfort.

She leaned back against him in return, giving him a little extra bit of support. Dee doesn't want to startle him again, and refrains from hugging him. With a shaky sigh, she studies him. "Are you hungry or anything?"

Hungry? Yes, he was. Terribly hungry. The change had sapped a lot of energy, and although his whole body ached from it's chemical reaction, his stomach was crying out for breakfast. He gave her arm a gentle bite before the memory of words managed to climb past the static of froggish impulses. "H-h-hungry..." He managed, the word ending in a chirp.

Dee nods sadly. "I thought so. Well...I don't know if I can help you there. You might be on your own--you're much better at catching at bugs than I am, hon." She taps the tip of his snout in a gentle, affectionate gesture.

Catch bugs... right.... right, that was right. That was right... he cocked his head at her a moment, both eyes open now and he turned his head this way and that to try to find the best angle to look at her at. "KrrKIT! yes... y-yes.. ah.... " His gaze slid towards the muddy bank of the lake and he took a springing leap away from her.

Dee gets to her feet, trembling. She hugs herself and heaves a great, shaking sigh. "I'll...I'll check back on you in a little while Newt," She calls after him. "And I'll bring you some more stuff for you." She doesn't know if he understands all that, but she has to say it nonetheless. After retrieving her binoculars, she turns to start back down the game trail towards the village. As she goes, Newt may be able to hear her rattling sobs...

He didn't quite comprehend them, though, lost in the buzzing of his pained and pounding head before he vanished into the water.

The run from Billy and all those words that were just not true had hurt in more ways than one. The breast had not taken kindly to the bouncing of the four legged run and hurt like hell. It had been almost a week and they were still tender! Almost as insignificant though had been the taste of dirt on her hand paws and the realization that she had run away on all fours like an animal. Worse, she hadn't even noticed! The changes were mucking with her brain, that much was clear. This was simply not acceptable. Richard was a Man. And he'd be damned if He'd act like some animal!

She was firm in her resolve as she snuck out to her fishing spot early that morning. "No more dropping to all fours. Nope. Never again." She thought as dug her claws into a tree that looked like it had a branch that would support her. Within seconds she had scaled the trunk and was settling on that branch. Even after the encounter with Billy she was unwilling to give up her spot but wanted to avoid being spotted by the aquatics that used the river. In the trees seemed to be a good compromise.

The book she had brought with her was entertaining but as the sun rose her eyelids began to droop. Eventually she nodded off, the soft cover book tumbling from her grasp and onto the forest floor.

Meanwhile, left to his own devices out deep in the woods, the frog was having much more difficulty sorting out his cognitive capabilities. He swamp, he hopped, he hunted for food. He called out for Dee, but she didn't return is desperate croakings, which confused and frustrated the primitive creature. Wary to leave the safety of his swamp, Newt still hopped to the river where he remembered spending time with the human in question. She wasn't like him, he knew that, and it wasn't him as a frog that was attracted to her... the part that was still rational as Newt couldn't let go of the kindness the nice young woman had extended to him. He couldn't forget the actual attention and interest she had had in him that no one else seemed to have cared. Of course he couldn't quite remember everything to that degree of detail, but he remembered.... warm, happy feelings, and he wanted to feel warm and happy again. At present, he was feeling cold and numb and disconnected.

He swam down the river, croaking out periodically in hopes that someone would reply, but of course none did. When the jungle opened up to wider banks, he was drawn by the buzzing of a nearby bee hive and leaped from the water to land heavily on the bank with a loud, firm, "KrrKIT!"

Richard jerked awake at the sudden and forgetting where she was, tried to sit up. Unfortunately this movement unbalanced her, causing her to topple off her branch. With an undignified yowl Richard hit the forest floor with a heavy thump about ten feet away from Newt.

The frog gave an immediate terrified croak, leaping frantically to hop back towards the water.

Richard groaned, still disoriented. She had landed on her side. The tentacles limply hanging from her back. She blinked clearing away the sleep and the pain of her side. The croak didn't register as she tilted her head upward to stare at the branch she had been sleeping on. Her tail twitched as if to say it was alive.

There was a loud splash as Newt hopped back into the river, turning so only his wide round eyes peered up over the surface of the water, boggling at the possible predator. He was in water, he was safe. He could swim away, he'd be safe. Right. Right.

Richard slowly peeled herself off the forest floor wincing as she did so. It didn't feel like anything was broken but she could feel the bruises forming all along her left side. Her right arms gripped her left upper one, hand paw above the elbow, tiny hand above the wrist. Her tail flicked with irritation as her brain slogged through the backlog of sensory data. Had that been a croak? Her bright green eyes scanned the river fixing one Newt's. She didn't recognize them. "Who's there!" She demanded.

"Krriiit!" Newt replied, giving a little splash as he flinched in the water from the shout. Everything told him to run, but the predator on the dry land was... was familiar, and he clung to that familiarity.

That sound.... "Newt?" Had he changed? She pushed herself up onto two feet, wobbling just a tad before her tail restored her balance. She breathed in, a boggy overtone drifted through the usual jungle scent. She advanced on the river, visibly limping. Still she was driven by curiosity.

The frog trembled, eyes wide as he pressed his belly down against the cold mossy rocks of the riverbed, watching in subdued terror as the other islander came closer. "KrrKIT!" He started, "Krriiit!" He ended, and crawled hesitantly back away from the bank in case the creature decided to pounce.

"Newt? Jeezus Newt , I'm not going to hurt you. Stop croaking like that." Richard's voice was a few octaves higher than when Newt had seen him last. She could clearly see that the frog had changed but couldn't make out details with him in the water. "You've changed right?" A conversation starter at least. She stopped her advance an sat on a rock near the bank. Between the pain and Newt's strange behavior she had forgotten about her own awkwardness.

Changed. He remembered that word. He knew this person... they were strange, different too by the look of things, but he couldn't quite articulate his thoughts on the matter. Instead, he took a timid crawling step up the bank again, lifting his froggy head up out of the water. He cocked his head, peering at Richard with one eye and then the other as his throat trembled curiously. "Ch-ch-cha-KRRIIK!" The croak ripped through the word and he swallowed.

Newt's smooth and shiny head made Richard's tentacles quiver and she swallowed the saliva that had suddenly appeared in her mouth. Newt's behavior was more frog like than ever and that head... must have hurt. A mrowl escaped her as she studied him. "Yes, you changed. Newt are you okay?" It certain hadn't helped the man;s stutter.

His head bobbed with a little whine in the back of his throat. He knew this person.... but he didn't know this person. Change... change... the cat-squid had changed again too! "Ah..." As the thoughts managed to wade their way through his swampy head, he took a moment before he managed to process the next question. Okay? "N-nnn... nnnno-KRIK!" His voice broke that time, as though caught in a froggish puberty.

She winced at the volume of the croak, her lips pulled back just enough for Newt to see the pointed tips of her teeth. "Could you please stop that! Its annoying."

The frog flinched back, pressing his belly against the bank, covering his snout with his webbed hands.

As she looked down on the plump frog man, she could not help a whirl of tangential thoughts from swirling through her mind. She could catch frogs with her tentacles, their skin would stick to the suction cups. But then she's have to go to the swamp then and get her feet stuck in that awful bog. Maybe she could stay in the trees? She licked the left side of her muzzle as she watched the frog man. She pushed the thoughts away, for later. Newt has here now and she wasn't going to eat him, despite how tasty he was starting to look. She took a breath, "Sorry, its probably something you'll have to learn to control. How long has it been?"

The frog didn't answer, a whistle stuck in his throat as he glanced up and about frantically, leg and arm muscles trembling and twitching, begging him to leap away. He opened his mouth and closed it a few times, slowly letting the words sink in before he managed to comprehend. "Ch-ch-changed..." he croaked, "h-hurt...."

Now Richard was beginning to think something was seriously wrong. Newt had stuttered before but usually spoken in sentences, not single words. Her tail stopped moving as concern tool hold of his features. "How did it happen Newt?" A question that couldn't be answered with a single word.

How.. what? The frog blinked at her, head bobbing as he tried to think. A pair of little brown island finches alighting unfortunately nearby to peck at the mosses of the bank diverted his attention and he thankfully seized the opportunity to ignore the pounding in his skull. He turned away from the cat-woman-man, creeping towards the birds with slow, careful intent. A crack and a squawk and a crunch and the rest scattered in a flurry of feathers.

Two words was better, but something was definitely wrong as Newt stalked the bird in the middle of the conversation. "Newt! No!" She scolded him. "Tell me what happened!" There was a growl of threat in her voice.

At the sound of the snarl, the frog gave a squeaking cry, bounding towards the water again. Blue! Blue! Away from green, green is filled with danger!

Richard's tentacles snapped after the running prey but Newt had already dove into the water and the cat knew she was too injured to pursue. So she waited, tail lashing with annoyance, for the frog to calm himself. Staring at him with inhuman eyes.

Newt whimpered, hiding in the water once again with only his eyes peering out in terror.

Richard looks at Newt with a disapproval etched into her face. Both sets of arms crossed. "Alright Newt. I'm not going to hurt you. So just come over here and tell me what happened. Take as long as you need. I'm not going anywhere." It was a half truth, she was starting to get hungry but she would hold out for an hour or more. She didn't want to hit the cafe at prime time.

The water seemed to calm him slightly, and he clung to the bank with a timid, dumb animal look. When the words seemed to drift past him unacknowledged, other words managed to surface from the mental bog. "Rrr....KrrIT! Rrrichard.... duh-d-d-differr-KRIT!...ent..." He might have been proverbially drowning in frog, but he was himself enough to dodge questions he wasn't comfortable answering.

Richard nodded, She didn't exactly want to dwell on her changes either. "Yes I changed." Richard started speaking slower for Newts benefit. Richard main tact was to try to get the frog man to answer complex questions. If he didn't want to talk about his change then that was fine with her. She didn't want to talk about how she had bawled her eyes out to a perfect stranger. "So have you installed any more additions to the swamp? Any more clever contraptions?"

The frog blinked at her stupidly, slowly absorbing each word. Swamp? His swamp was up the river. Contraptions? Gone... gone... everything had been taken... knocked over rocks and spilled charcoal and confiscated bicycles and cans and rope.... "N-no....KRIT! G-g-gone..." As though avoiding thinking about the painful event, the frog gave a kick to swim across the river and back restlessly

Her black and far less bushy eyebrows shot up. "Gone? What do you mean gone?" The lab wouldn't have? Well maybe?
Bilious42: Newt shook his head as he swam back to the bank again, "N-no... no k-k-kettle."

"No kettle? I don't recall you having a kettle, just a bike. Did someone get you a kettle." Good Richard keep him talking.

Where had his kettle come from? He remembered, he remembered creeping into the kitchen from the back door, and Delia chasing after him angrily as he hopped away with it. He remembered Dee bringing him teabags and the two enjoying it before... before... he gave a small, concerned sort of whistling croak and his neck sacks inflated with a powerful, "KrrKIT! KrrKIT! KrrKIT! KrrKIT!" As though that explained everything.

The thunderous croaks were not entirely unexpected this time and Richard was able to bite back a threatening growl and keep her teeth behind her lips. The rest of her body was far less well behaved, her hackles rose as her body hunkered down and her toes dug into the sandy bank. "Newt." The voice was free of of growl but clearly not happy with the frog. "Stop that. Those aren't words."

Newt gave a whimper, his hands rising up to his pounding skull once again, and it was unclear whether water had splashed onto his face or if they were tears rolling down his froggy cheeks, "W-w-wo-words..." He choked, clenching his bulbous eyes shut for a moment before opening them again.

Richard tried to clam herself, Newt wasn't a threat he was a useful informant, an ally and perhaps a friend. She settle herself back on her rock but every muscle was like a wound spring, ready to leap on this annoying intruder should he make any sudden movements. She knew she should be more sympathetic but his prey like behavior and annoying noises were making it very difficult. "Yes words Newt. Use them to tell me whats going on." The voice was slightly less hard

"Nnnn..." The frog gave a thoroughly frustrated whistling croak, mouth opening and closing a few times uselessly. Words. Words. Going on? He didn't understand completely, brain aching as it tried to digest the human words and sounds. It was far easier to read the tensed muscles of the cat about to spring, the threatening tentacles and thrashing tail. "Ahh... ah..." He whimpered, fidgeting in the water, "D-d-difficult..." He croaked.

"Difficult?" A note of worry entered Richard's voice. "What's difficult." If the change had done something to Newt's brain, his thought processes. Except for her tail, Richard's position did not change.

Newt scrambled for the words, rooting through his swampy head. It was indeed difficult. He felt coherent, but like a yawn engulfing his mind, his eyes would twitch to movement in the trees and he would be derailed and forget where he had left off and would need to begin again. After several moments of miserable chirps and groans, the frog managed, "Th-th-thi-KRIIT!-th-thinking..."

"s**t." A small growl slipped past her lips as she took her eyes off Newt for a moment. She sighed, it was human sound for once. The serum mucked up the frog man's head, apparently more so than usual. On the positive side Newt seemed to be doing better than he had when he first crawled out the river. Maybe constant social interaction would help? "Newt if your having trouble, maybe you should come back to the village for awhile."

He gave a chirp, head bouncing up and down at the mention of the word "Village" before he managed to shake his head back and forth, "B-bad..." There was no place for him in the village. He had resolved to leave and go as far as he could to work on his inventions, but it seemed not even that had helped him. Of course he couldn't exactly articulate these thoughts but he could remember the *feeling* of them.

"You shouldn't stay out here like this Newt. You need some help." Richard her, him at the time, pledge to try and prevent anyone from going insane. Newt wasn't going to improve out here that for sure, alone with his not so inner frog. "I can help you fix up your duplex." Richard's form had begun to relax as she shifted into a more consoling mode of thought. The longer they talked the easier it was to think of Newt as a person and not an annoying morsel.

"S-s-swa-KRIT! ... s-swa-swamp... f-for... for frog..." He managed to string together nearly a whole sentence this time, his breathing quick as he clung to the blank, happy to be in the water. The predator seemed to relax, which in turn made him a little more comfortable, but only marginally.

"People need other people Newt, especially when one isn't thinking straight. Your not a frog, your a person too and right now you need to focus on being a person." Richard's throat rumbled softly at her words. She sounded like one of those happy camp councilors, paint happy but an untrue picture of the world. Newt was a frog, no doubt about that.

Newt blinked dumbly, obviously confused by this statement. The words flowed in one yellow ear pad and vibrated out the other. "KrrrKIT!"

"You have to practice talking and thinking." Richard snaps at Newt, frustration driving a trace of growl into her voice.

Too many concepts the frog man seemed incapable of grasping, and his attentions had wandered. He crept along the bank, seeming to ignore the cat-man-woman's growing anger, drawn by a slight movement under the nearby ferns.

Richard's eyes narrowed, annoyed at being a ignored. She slipped off her rock and started walking toward Newt, her bare feet soundless on the sandy bank.

The frog didn't notice, too intent on his own prey. He crouched for a moment in front of the bush before his tongue flew out and the rat gave a sharp, terrified squeal before it was lost inside the frog's massive jaws, the fat, wriggling tail thrashing about the corner of his mouth like a worm until it was swallowed down whole.

Richard stood behind Newt, four arms crossed, tail lashing angrily behind her. "Nnnneeeewwwt!" The name was stretched out on a rack of annoyance. She tried to tell herself that letting herself be annoyed with him was pointless. But understanding that actually replacing that annoyance with the vibe of a care giver wasn't an ability that she currently possessed.

The frog's head jerked up, recognizing that word, at least. He gave a familiar croak, crawling around to huddle on his belly in a way he could cast the irritated islander a sideways glance.

Richard forced herself to use small words. "Come on, Lets go. To the village." She gestured in the direction of the village with a paw hand, her claws halfway extended.

Newt blinked again, throat trembling as he mulled over the thought. Frogs didn't ask things like "Why" or "What for?" The concept of the village ebbed in and out of his consciousness and the frog gave an anxious sort of noise, "V-village... d-danger." The village had people who chased him, threatened to eat him, hurt him and not nearly enough water to hide in.

"Safer than jungle. Get you help." She wasn't planning on taking no for an answer either. She squatted down to Newt's level, eyes fixing on Newt's arm, ready to grab it if he attempted to escape. "Go on. To the village."

Newt shook his head again, getting more nervous the closer Richard got. "N-n-no... no... s-swamp... s-swamp... s-sma-KRIIIT! S-safe..."

Richard's paw hand darted out and into the water with a sudden splash! Aiming for newt's arm.

Newt gave a frantic croak, leaping into the air in an attempt to dodge the sudden movement. BLUE BLUE FLEE TO THE BLUE! His brain screamed.

Richard's hand met only river dirt and then Newt's leap knocked her backwards on her tail. She lets out a cry of pain, "Rrek!"

The frog was quick to flee, landing back in the water with a splash and kicked off, preparing to swim away as fast as he could.

Richard's tentacles lashed at the fleeing frog with a snarl but the frog's leap had carried him well beyond their range.

With a few swift kicks, the frog swam away, up stream back towards the jungle and the safety of his swamp.

Richard watched the frog swim away, fuming and frustrated. Newt needed help, but what kind and from who she wasn't sure.

Back and Forth
Meeting up with Tommy at the river
http://www.gaiaonline.com/guilds/viewtopic.php?t=8255535

Newt was feeling only marginally better after his visit to Dee not too long ago. Only marginally because she still had seemed sick and he hadn't since heard from her. She wasn't dead, though. Right. Of course not. Her bird feeders were still in front of her duplex as he hopped by on his way to Nita's as he'd promised. Good. Good. Maybe he'd look in on his way back. The bottles and cans she had given him were stashed safely deep in his swamp until he had use of them, but he was excited about the plan the panda and he had come up with.

Would people actually take advantage of it? Would selfishness overtake charity? Alright, so he was being a bit selfish, considering the nature of the plan, but if they knew the whole story, he was sure they'd understand. With a timid croak, he landed on the porch of Nita's duplex and gave a quick soft knock.

It had been well over a week since Nita and Newt had begun their planning, and Nita was beginning to think the frog-man had retreated to that semi-feral state and forgotten. In any case, Nita was prepared to make signs, if and when he ever showed up at her duplex. So she was pleasantly surprised to find Newt at her door. "Hi there!" Nita said, letting him in.

Her duplex was ready for business, the table cleared off except for the supplies she already had: paper and some pens, mostly. It really was a good thing Marshall had agreed to help.

"Come on in, Newt. And I've got access to art supplies!"

The frog flinched as the door opened, crouching low until he managed to force himself to remember that the small red-furry young woman was undoubtedly going to eat him.

"Ah... ah... G-good! Good!" He managed to croak with a smile, leaping inside as he was invited. He felt like he should have brought something himself, but he really didn't have anything to donate to the cause
(7:48:08 PM) Bilious42: which, of course, was the trouble to begin with. It was difficult to not feel a little embarrassed considering the state he had been in when they had last spoken. "S-sorry... sorry I ah... d-didn't... er... c-come sooner! I assure y-you... I... I am excited though!" He moved towards the piles of paper she had set out curiously.

"Hey, don't worry about it," Nita reassured him. "Go ahead and have a seat." She glanced at Newt's awkward form and amended, "Or pull up a bit of floor."

Padding over to the intercom, she said, "Hold on just a minute, and we'll have more stuff to work with." Nita grinned and punched in the number to Marshall's duplex.

Marshall had spent the day...sleeping. It was too damn hot to do any thing else, he had decided. Actually, it stemmed from his transformations. While the fall and winter was bearable, now that it was Spring, he was in a world of crap.

He heard a familiar buzzing sound from his wall. He couldn't help but swat at the imaginary insect next to his nonexistent ear. "Swuah..." he moaned, rolling onto his side. Eventually, the ringing became too much, and he realized that it wasn't a bug. He didn't even have visible ears to be annoyed by bugs any more.

Slowly he got to his feet, scratching his paunch as he pressed the received key. "Yeah what?!" he answered, not very warmly.

Nita stood fidgeting, waiting for Marshall to pick up on the other end. Hopefully he was home, and still willing to work on signs. "Marshall?" she finally asked upon a rather cranky greeting. "It's Nita. Newt is over here; did you still want to make signs and stuff with us?"

"H-Huh?" Marshall blinked, wiping the sleep (and what remained of his cranky demeanor) out of his eyes. "Oh! Nita! Right! Just let me get dressed! I'll be right over!"

"Great," Nita replied, stifling a laugh. "Don't forget your markers! See you in a few minutes, kay?"

Apparently Marshall was just as oblivious as his adopted brother, not even realising he told a girl he was in his boxers. Oh well. "Yeah! See ya in a sec!" Marshall replied, as he looked around for any thing clean to wear.

After she ended the call, Nita turned back to Newt. "You've met Marshall, right? I told him a little bit about the donation thing, and he offered to help us with signs."

"Ah... y-yes, I..." Newt glanced up from where he had been peering in the drawer of the coffee table curiously, but closed it again and picked up a pen in a clumsy movement to try to cover his invasive curiosity.

"He... ah... helped m-me with... um... w-well... wh-when... um..." He croaked and cleared his throat, a hand instinctively going to scratch at his swollen frog belly. "It's b-been mo-mo-mo-months, though."

The last time he had seen him had been at the construction site, but that felt like ages ago now. He wondered if he had even wondered where the frog had disappeared to. The emotionally battered amphibious man lowered his head, fidgeting meekly with the pen. No reason to get nervous. They were all friends here. Right. Right keep telling yourself that.

Nita raised a brow, unsure whether or not that meant Newt and Marshall were on good terms. Ah well. "Anyway, he'll be over in a little bit and we can get started." She glanced at the corner of the room. It was an implicit warning that they probably shouldn't discuss the actual motives behind their project. Even though their conversation at the lake's edge had probably been monitored, talking about it within the confines of the village was a bad idea.

"Erg! Damnit! Ahr!" complained a tall tower of markers. Or at least, that was how it appeared if you were looking at the front of it.

"42...42...Forty...One?!" Marshall said in shock as he walked up the bottom door, seeing the number. That must mean that Nita lived upstairs. "...CRAP!" he exclaimed, balancing the boxes of markers.

Slowly, at about a Snail's pace, Marshall climbed the stairs, the box of markers wobbling back and forth, threatening to fall at any minute. It was a miracle he made it to Nita's door. "KNOCK KNOCK!" he yelled.

At the shout, the frog gave a sharp, KRIIT! and vanished under the coffee table, wide eyes scouring for the sight of the threat. The pen he had been holding clattered to the carpet, forgotten.

Nita heard the commotion at the door and went to open it. "Oh!" she exclaimed, surprised by the mysteriously walking pile of markers. She glanced back at Newt, momentarily unable to locate him.

"Uh... Come on in. I'm going to assume it's Marshall under there." Nita grinned and gestured for the penguin to unload his burden on the table.

"Thanks!" Marshall grunted, putting the boxes down on the coffee table, unable to see the chubby green frog-man under it. "Next time Nita, lets meet in the Cafeteria or some thing...Its a lotta work going up those steps with the markers!"

When the door was closed and it was clear it was just the bird-man, Newt crawled forward out from his hiding spot. He watched him quietly, taking in his changes. His face might have become more of a beak and the tiny feathers might have spread, but the brown hair was a dead give away. He wondered how soon before he would loose it and be identifiable only by his species. "Ah... " He swallowed once he was out and sat upright to glance at the markers, "Th-th-thank you for h-helping us woo-woo-with this..." Force that nervous frown into a smile! There you go. The corners of his mouth wavered. Just a harmless project, right?

"...Newt?!" Marshall exclaimed, greeted with the sight of a large, chubby, green frog. "Where have you been, man!?" Marshall smiled warmly.

"Sorry, Marshall!" Nita laughed. "I wasn't expecting you to bring quite so much."

Newt's head dipped down as he gave a somewhat embarrassed smile and rubbed his snout with a webbed knobbly hand, "Ah... it's... b-been a while, hasn't it?" Months.

"I've... I've... I have a n-nice swamp n-now and um...KrrIIIT!"

Marshall chuckled, "You got a swamp now? Cool!" he said, looking over at Nita, "Well...You said you needed Markers..."

Nita poked through the boxes, thoroughly impressed with the selection, letting Newt and Marshall get reacquainted. "That I did," she laughed. "And it puts my handful of pens to shame."

The red panda girl turned to Newt. "Well, now that we've got everything, shall we get started? What kind of stuff do we want to have on these signs anyway?"

He turned bashfully to look through the boxes in fascination as well, "Th-this... th-this r-really is im-im-impressive! Ah... are... are you an ar-ar-artist?"

"Huh? Yeah, kinda sorta. Use to be a cartoonist before I got on the island." Marshall admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

"So, um, yeah...What should we put on these things?" Marshall asked meekly.

"I guess just stuff like "Donate Your Stuff!" and "Free!"," Nita said, shrugging. "Big letters, neatly written?"

"M-m-m-maybe... m-maybe explain it all?" Newt offered, giving Marshall a thoughtful look before picking out the blue markers. Something hardwired into his mutated brain felt very partial to the color.

"All?" Nita repeated, glancing furtively at the camera up by the ceiing. "Like that people are free to give stuff and go through and take what they want?" She helped herself to a variety of colors, and a stack of paper. She hadn't done much writing since her final change, but her paw-like hands should still be nimble enough.

"Whatever works for you guys." Marshall shrugged, digging around one of the boxes, finding a roll of masking tape with an odd smirk on his face.

Newt gave a clicking cooing noise in the back of his throat, cocking his head one way and then the other as he considered, "W-well... m-m-maybe... m-maybe j-just... a l-little? F-free... Th-th-th-th-thrift shop? S-something?"

"Sounds good to me," Nita agreed. She settled herself into the wooden chair from Gaius and got to work.

"Yeah, Thrift shop isn't a bad name for it...Erg!" Marshall grunted, using his beak to unwind the tape. He smirked as he got a longish piece out, and ripped it off his his handy-dandy beak. "So, we got paper?" he asked, grabbing a red marker with the hand that wasn't holding the tape.

"Ah- y-yes, here!" Newt snatched up the stack Nita had set out, pushing it towards the artistic penguin with fascination.

Marshall laid his right flipper down, then put down the marker. Then, he taped the marker to his hand in the same pose it would be if he still had opposable hands.

"...What? Do I got some thin' on my face?" Marshall asked Newt blankly.

Nita had almost suggested that Marshall, as resident artist, perhaps add some little cartoons to the signs. But then she realized that the penguin-man had fared worse than she in terms of his hands. Although, she noticed, Marshall had figured out a pretty good method.

"Ah-KRIIIT!" Newt flinched back, embarrassed at being caught staring, "N-n-no! N-no, I was j-just... j-just curious... wh-what you were doing with th-the... ah... ah....krrIIIT! Car-car-cartoons would be n-neat- they'd... d-d-draw... attention... m-m-maybe..." He trailed off, worried that he might have treaded on a sore subject.

Marshall nodded, "Hmm....Yeah." he murmured, doodling a tiny, cartoony face of Nita in the corner. "Like this?"

Nita's brows rose in surprise. "Hey, exactly like that!" she exclaimed. She turned back to her own piece of paper and started to write, as careful as she could.

"Should I write some thing?" Marshall asked, actually having a new reason to draw.

"Th-that... th-that's really c-c-cuh... c-cute!" Newt remarked, timidly leaning in to watch the penguin as he worked, clutching his own blank paper to his moist chest demurely.

"Pretty much whatever we decided on, I guess," Nita told him. "Unless you want to add doodles to other signs."

"Sure, I can handle that." Marshall said, writing "PLEASE DONATE" over the doodle-Nita's head.

"If... if th-they're d-decorated like th-that, I'm s-sure people would... wh-what about... wh-what about pictures of... of l-little things involved like... like b-bo-bottles and... ah... old s-socks and s-suchlike?" Newt tried to offer, brightening up by the progress of the project. He glanced over to Nita, his timid smile gaining assurance as he straightened into a more human sitting position.

"Hand me another piece of paper, will ya?" Marshall asked Newt, as he fumbled with his taped hand. Trying to get it off was about three times worse, he feared.

Nita nodded encouragement at Newt. This was definitely going better than she'd hoped. Marshall's sketches were really cute, and they should help draw attention.

Newt did as he was told, handing them over as he watched.

Nita continued working on her own sign, her tongue poking out between her lips as she concentrated. Her thumbs weren't quite opposable anymore and it took a lot of control to keep the markers from wobbling all over.

This time it was a green marker. He did the same thing: tape, flipper, marker, tape. "So, Newt, outside of your swamp, how ya been?"

"I... um... " He wasn't quite sure how to answer that question, his spherical eyes swiveling up to peer at the spots that might have had a hidden camera or microphone, but of course he couldn't spot any directly.

"Er... I've... b-been... buh-b-busy I guess..." That was one way to put it, wasn't it? He glanced to Nita helplessly before snatching up a marker himself to scratch at the paper in his timid way. Even before the webbing, the frog man had had terrible handwriting.

"How does this look?" Marshall giggled, holding up the Newt doodle cartoon. "Life like, eh?"

Nita glanced up from what she was writing and grinned. "Lovely job. Now one of you!"

Newt twisted his head to see the picture better, positively beaming at the sight of the little cartoon.

Marshall laughed, adding the HELP YOURSELF to the top of the Newt picture. "Heh heh, alright." Marshall agreed happily, as he finally got the tape off his flipper.

Finally content with her sign, Nita grabbed another sheet of paper and set to work yet again.

Newt was tempted to say something further, but he knew it would be stupid speaking up in the duplex. He settled to scratch away with a black pen, his own sign scribbly, illegible and somewhat uninviting.

"Erm...Newt..." Marshall smirked, rubbing the back of his neck with his un-markered hand, "Maybe you should leave the hand writing to me and Nita..."

Glancing over at Newt, the red panda girl hid a smile. "Aw, it's fine. I think people will still get the gist of it."

"Ah...?" He glanced up with a frown, glancing from the happy colorful doodles of Marshall's fliers, then to Nita's neat-and-tidy version and then to his own before crumping the paper up with embarassment. "Always... w-was a b-bit er... m-messy..."

Nita frowned. "You didn't need to do that! It was fine, wasn't it Marshall?" She looked over at Marshall for support.

"H-hey man...C'mon. They weren't that bad. They were good!" Marshall said, partly lying but trying to protect his friend's feelings.

Newt stayed crouched over his fresh sheet of paper, trying again with the blue marker this time, but the product was no more legible than the last, but he had added in scratchy-lined stick figures, one with a beak and another with pointed ears and a big tail, followed by what was essentually a circle with four lines and two smaller circle eyes.

"There ya go, Newt. That's the spirit." Nita gave the frog-man a quick pat on the back. He was obviously trying as hard as he could. A+ for effort.

"Yeah. Newt, thats great." Marshall smiled, as strange and quirky a beak-smile was. "Hm...Hey, how many posters are we gonna need?"

"As... as man-man-many as we c-can I think... wan-wan-want people to... to con-con-contribute." He felt a little better at his second attempt at least.

"Yeah, enough to put up around the village," Nita agreed, starting on another sign.

"Ohhh...We're gonna have to make a lot, then." Marshall murmered, wondering if he'd need more tape as he did his Penguin Art Hand with a blue marker.

"Do... do... do you th-think pe-pe-people will re-re-really... you know, do-donate?" He shifted, "I m-mean... I d-don't know..." He fidgeted, holding up a third attempt to frown at it critically.

"I really hope so!" Nita exclaimed. "Or else my hand is cramping up for nothing." She grinned and added another sign to her pile.

Sure they will. I know I'm gonna donate all my old shoes. And between me and Nita we can probably guilt Gaius into giving stuff."

"I'm going to keep spreading the word, whenever I run into people. Besides, everyone likes getting free stuff," Nita added.

"And... and y-you never know whw-what... what people might p-put in, right?" Newt laughed weakly, shifting anxiously as he finished up another that looked about the same as the first few, although he was getting a bit more confident and formulaic.

A couple hours later, there was a rather impressive stack of signs on Nita's table. The girl sat back, shaking her sore hand. "Okay, I think we have enough. For now, at least!" She grinned at Marshall and Newt, thoroughly proud of their efforts. "Next step is to get that corner of the cafeteria set up, and start taping these all over the place."

"Okay!" Marshall said, a large pile of discarded tape next to him and a good amount of poster in front of them, each one of them with a different caricature on it.

Ah... I w-was... offered a... a c-case to use... an old s-suitcase... for p-puh-people to put the... objects in! I'll... I'll leave it in the co-co-corner if... if you p-put up the... the s-signs..."

"Awesome," Nita told him. "I'll keep an eye out for it, and I think we can actually get this thing going in the next couple of days!"

[fin]

For the past week and a half, Diane Creedwater had been drinking. Heavily.

Her schedule hadn’t changed much, but a lot of her studying and hiking time had been replaced by raids on the beach bar and consumption of her own stash. A small mound of beer, wine, and liquor bottles was forming under her desk and behind her duplex. Her birdfeeders needed to be filled, and her journals were painfully out of date. She had managed to collect a large amount of local seafood for the clam bake, but instead of sorting and cataloguing and planning, she had simply let it sit the café freezer. The only bit of housekeeping that she had kept atop of was tending the nest. Dee faithfully turned the eggs and adjusted the lamp twice a day.

On the evening of April 1rst, she was sprawled on out her bed; having just clawed up out of what she assumed was another booze-spurred blackout. A foul, acidic scum coated the back of her throat and she groaned, clawing at her soiled sheets. Each day for the past week she had drank herself to the point of vomiting. Dee would then chug water until she felt somewhat revived and the binge would begin anew.

They were right… they were right… I can’t do it. I won’t be able to do it now… *I’m* the experiment, now.

The nodules on her lips and…elsewhere… writhed in discomfort. Dee felt her gorge rising and rolled off the bed, rushing to the bathroom with one hand clenched over her mouth. After liberating her sparse dinner, she flushed the toilet and slumped down next to the bathtub. The woman lifted a shaking hand towards the spigot and turned on a gentle stream of cold water. She rinsed out her mouth then filled a stained coffee cup.

Her head pounded as she fished an antacid tablet and some Tylenol out of her pocket. The smell of unwashed clothes and body odor assaulted her nose, but she didn’t give it a second thought. She had been wearing the same clothes for ******** it. Let’s see what they make out of me now. Can’t change DNA if it’s good ‘n pickled. The bathroom tile felt blissfully cool and Dee almost considered dragging in a pillow. She took a sip of water and bared her teeth at her warped reflection in the chrome hardware.

When Newt awoke, it was the muted silence that gave him the first warning signals that something was amiss. There was no sound of the trickle of the little waterfall, no buzz of jungle insects or constant chirp of the finches. No rattling of boar and deer and twig snap of monkeys leaping by. Just the distant hum of air conditioners. He sat up with a gasp, glancing around the dusty empty interior with a startled look. How did he get in here? What had happened? Crouched with his back against the wall he gave himself a pat to make sure he was all in one piece still, but frowned when something caught his enormous round eye. Black marker stood out against his speckled pale belly in an all too familiar pattern. One that had drifted in and out of a few of his nightmares since his transformation had begun.



At the sight of the dotted-lines, the frog-man screamed sharply, leaping for the door. Every instinct was screaming to flee, to find water and duck for cover but once he exploded out the door and down the steps, it wasn't towards the lake his limbs brought him, it was Dee’s duplex. He hurled himself towards the door, knocking frantically as though a mad scientist with a scalpel would leap out at him at any moment.

Dee’s stomach had just about settled when her door began to rattle with panicked knocks. Shaken out of her hung over reverie, she sat up straight against the bathroom wall and clasped a hand over her forehead. “Nnnoooo… nawt now…” she slurred, lips wriggling and jaw clenching down. The fear and intensity behind the knocks cooled her temper, and she pulled herself to her feet. She cleared her throat and shuffled towards the door.

Dee picked her way over the dirty laundry, torn journals, and empty bottles and slumped against the wall near her entrance with a dull thump. The woman could hear more activity outside. “One atta time,” she sighed, scratching at her mane. “Uh…”

She frowned as she pulled her hand away. Her hair was wet. Come to think of it… her clothes were wet, too. Dee frowned and picked at her soaked shirt, aware of a growing ache in her arm. “Wha… the hell?” she looked around in bleary annoyance.

A fresh series of knocks sounded beside her, and her attention was diverted. Dee paused for a moment to gather her wits then took a deep breath and slowly opened the door.

There sat Newt, wild-eyed and whimpering, rubbing and clutching at his wide froggy belly as though attempting to rub off the black lines from his thin moist skin. "D-d-duh-krrIIIT!" At the sight of her sogging, changed state, he staggered backward to fall down onto all fours in a terrified crouch. Her... her FACE! Her face was... this couldn't be... the frog screamed PREDATOR RUN! But no! No this was Dee and she loved him even though he was a frog! Right? She did love him didn't she? Or he loved her anyway- of course he loved her, or so he thought he did but... but her... her eyes and lips and... "Wh-what... what... " He panted, fighting the ribbiting noises that squeaked from his throat before he managed to form words, "Wh-what have they d-do-do-done to you??" It was cliché', but he had no idea what else to say in a situation like this. She was drenched- no doubt covered in sweat!

Dee’s aching stomach suddenly felt very cold. She hadn’t seen Newt since before her major changes that fateful day. Her vision blurred for a moment as her head began to swim. “N-newt!! Oh, uh…w-well…” The door swung open, revealing more of the disheveled state of her duplex. “I, uh, that day you c-came last… I sort of…” She was sluggish and hung-over, and her brain refused to cooperate. She clutched at her arms at the same time she clutched for words.

Then came a sudden stab of pain and a yelp. Confused, Dee took a step back. Almost immediately, there was a wet ‘popping’ sound beneath her foot. Dee staggered and caught herself on the door frame, looking down with wide eyes. Her brain was scarcely able to comprehend what she saw.

It was an IV bag.

Dee’s eyes widened as they followed the tube up to its end at an IV needle, which was still taped to her arm. Her breath caught in a guttural half-growl, half-gasp and she looked up at Newt with her own panicked expression. Her mouth had dropped open—oh, those pearly white canines!--and her alien lips writhed in instinctual fear.

He gave another croak, crawling backwards as the panic attack bubbled up in his chest, seizing his lungs. He was hyperventilating, eyes darting from the IV to the sharp teeth to the wriggling lips to the wet dripping, clinging front of her shirt to the odd colored stripes. He was frozen, like a deer in headlights unsure of what he could possibly do or say. He wanted to rush to her, to throw his arms around her and pull her back to her bed to nurse her back to health... or drag her away from the duplexes and the labs and hide her out in the jungle where there was water and it was safe for her and the eggs- he almost forgot that they were pigeon eggs for a moment. Upon reflection he would have felt embarrassed, but at that moment the frog stay still, waiting to see what sort of move the other creature would make.

Dee could hear other voices coming from the village but they all registered as a general din in the background. What’sgoingon…what’sgoingon… what’d they do now!? Newt, what’s he got to be thinking? N-no, I KNOW what he’s thinking. She fell to her knees and grabbed for the IV bag, which was still leaking onto the carpet. Dee whimpered and looked up at him.

“I-I’m not a monster, Newt…it’s just me! It’s STILL me! I-I don’t know what’s going on,” she clasped the bag to her chest, trying to keep the remaining liquid in. Dee grabbed onto a nearby chair with her free hand, then looked over sharply. She pulled the hand away and stared at her grime-coated palm with a confused expression. Her eyes flicked over to the seat of the chair. Aside from her fresh palm-print, it was covered in a fine layer of dust.

Her head shot around back towards Newt and it was then that she spotted his ‘tattoos.’ “Oh god.” A low gurgling growl rattled in her dry throat.

"I... I... I w-woke in ... in m-my... I th-thought... it l-looked liek th-they were... " he babbled weakly, just barely managing to keep his mind up out of the wash of startled froggy terror. "Are... wh-what... wh-what ha... krrIIIT! KrrrKITkrrKIT Wh-what is... are... are y-you...?" He rubbed at the marks around the joint of his arm, the marker stinging his thin amphibious skin and reminded him of more immediate dangers. Were they after him? Where they going to cut him up? "I... I... I have to g-go..." He panted, "I d-don't... I d-don't know wh-what's going on...!

As he spoke, Dee had been getting more and more agitated. He was going to leave? Just like that? “N-no!! NO! Newt, please wait!” Her nubbins flattened against each other until they made a single dull ‘point’ on her lower and upper lips each. “I…I’m turning into something…I th-thought I wouldn’t but…” She grimaced, and her fangs glint in the low ambient light. Her voice took on a more urgent tone. “It’s something predatory, that’s all I can figure out f-for now.”

She suddenly glanced down at the ruined IV bag and felt another surge of confusion and panic. “G-get in here! We can figure something out!” Dee’s voice was husky and raspy from dehydration. “Please! I changed my mind, I don’t want to be left alone right now!” With that, her ears pulled back a bit and she lunged for him with one outstretched hand. She only meant to grab him and take him inside…

As she came after him, the frog gave a terrified croak, leaping away in a sudden movement to land heavily several feet away. "I... I... I... I d-don't want to be d-dissected!" He cried frantically as though that was his excuse, but there was something deeper inside him that reacted to the predator budding inside her.

“You WON’T be!” Persistent and nerve-wracked, Dee whimpered and took a step outside towards him. She gestured with that claw-tipped hand and her lips pulled tighter into strange points. “PLEASE, NEWT,” she gasped. A new wave of nausea crept up her throat. Her eyes watered a bit as she fought her gag reflex. The scenery whirled and Dee fell to her knees again. Crouched like this, dripping wet yet with her stiff mane seemingly ‘bristled’, she certainly looked predatory.

As she pressed the empty IV bag against her stomach and trembled, it seemed as if she was about to pounce.

His buggy eyes were streaming with terrified tears. He wanted to go to her, to hug her tightly and huddle in fear together with her as they tried to make sense of the strange morning, but the bristled mane, the bared fangs and claws was enough to send off heated warning signals through his throbbing post-zapped brain. "KrrIIT!" He cried flinching several times as his muscles spas med ready to leap away once again.

If he wasn’t going to come to her, she was going to go to him.

Dee choked back a strangled sob. She needed him right now. Something deep down in her own genes cried out for the comfort of a friend…a mate. The species gap made little difference. She gathered herself to a somewhat-upright stance and, suddenly hungry for contact, half-shambled, half-pounced for him.

He tried to leap free with another terrified croak, only to be caught in her grip as h e was pounced. He cried out frantically, thrashing and kicking to try to get himself free from the creature that undoubtedly wanted to eat him!

Dee cried out in surprise at his reaction. Her cry turned to a gag as one of his flailing limbs hit her solidly in the gut. She released her ‘death hug’ and crumpled to the ground like a sack of potatoes. Stunned, her vision blurred and a bitter taste tickled the back of her throat.

The terrified prey animal leapt away as fast as he could without another thought, instinct screaming in his round flat yellow ears to RUN RUN RUN! Leap to water! Find water! So it was the direction for the lake for him as he leapt faster than he had ever done before.

Dee barely registered Newt’s flight. She curled into a tight fetal ball as her head swam and her stomach pitched. That sore-all-over feeling had returned with a vengeance. She tried to spit the bitter taste out of her mouth, but only managed to n** one of her lip-nubbins.

With a pained whine, she took out her frustration on the ruined IV and TUGGED it out of her arm. Tears beginning to streak her dusty cheeks, Dee flung it away. She lay in the dirt in front of her duplex for a few more long minutes. When the worst of the aches had subsided, she crawled back inside.

Dee spent the rest of the night at the foot of her bed, using soiled laundry as her pillow.

Drunken Feather Hunt
http://www.gaiaonline.com/guilds/viewtopic.php?t=8661705