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To Kaveri it was more than just a hobby, but she couldn't quite put her obsession into words. Instinct? Delusions? A number of thoughts swam around in her head, none of them really making any sense as to why she felt compelled to do such things. She had no reason, she just did these things on impulse to make her feel better.

The vulture just nodded. "Anything really important would be announced over de loudspeakers," she shrugged. "I haven't had much of a desire to stay around for longer den what is necessary."

There were, of course, a few choice incidents which confused her due to her time away from the village -- namely, Aubrey once again teetering the edge of death at the hands of Batboy and what could be a grey alien. In other words, the Weekly World News.

She who Escapes Death. The notion of this amused the vulture that dwelled in the back of Kaveri's mind. This was her second brush with it, the vulture found it quite enticing to find out what would become of a third encounter with death. It would have to wait and see.

"De changes? Dey seem to happen in bursts," Kaveri said, rubbing the side of her head with the inner edge of her wing and fighting the urge to preen at her nonexistant feathers with her equally immaterial beak. "I've had two so far... no idea how many more I have to go. Some tings come before oters -- my first change, my neck lenfened and my middle fingers fused. My last one, I... well, I look like dis now. And I talk... differently, since my upper mouf has gotten weird."

She pauses to take a sip, resting her other arm on the countertop. "De changes are painful. At least, if you're not a mammal. Growing some fur can't be too awful, dose lucky ********."

"Some tings are hard to get used to," the vulture said calmly. "I don't like having to lean on a stick in order to walk. I don't tink I'll ever get used to my new diet. I miss having hands, most of all." She looked down at her wing-hand with utter disdain, flexing her two scaly fingers and touching the tips together. She was practically a lobster.

The other question had her lifting her head and directing attention away from her ugly, lumpy wing. "Zach? He's a close friend of mine. Ran into him pretty early on during my stay here, back when I was just human and he still had one arm."

"A whole ******** arm," Kaveri said, raising her own to emphasize what she was saying. "De big red arm dat's scalier den de oter? Dat wasn't dere before. Musta gained it wif his transformation. Musta been a painful son of a b***h to grow back..."

With alcohol, who cares if you're being insensitive?

"Pretty much," Kaveri affirmed, downing the last of her drink. "Just pray you get a mammal. Maybe even ask nicely for it over the intercom. Hope it's not a bird... or an octopus... maybe you'll get someting nice, like a puppy."

"Be careful on days where you wake up feeling like s**t. Like, not like hung over... I don't know about anyone else, but I woke up feeling awful on de two days I changed. I felt scared and uncertain, more dan ever before... felt dat way all day, before having my body twisted and ******** up beyond any feasible recognition. 'Course, I mostly felt like s**t for the rest of de day after changin'... but what's before is what counts." She points meaningfully, yet clumsily, at the older man. "Be mindful of your gut feelings when you wake up."

"I don't know," Kaveri shook her head, "it was like dat for me. I don't know how it is wif oters... dis is my own personal experience. You might not even feel anyting at all." She'd mention the telltale nightmares, but she could never remember them the morning after -- just the lingering fear that she had.

The vulture paused for thought, thinking over Sid's question. "Hope you're not in a bad place and just ride it out. Dere's no stopping it, and you never know for sure when it'll hit." Really, what can you do?

"My changes were about... a monf or so apart, give or take. It's hard to keep track of time here, since de days just blend in wif each oter after so long. But it's been a long time since my last change. I'm not sure what to expect, or when... and I can only hope dat dey've forgotten about me."

That deer-girl she met was the same way.

"Nah, I'm good. Tanks. I don' wanna get too sloshed, oterwise I'd get lost on de way home," Kaveri waved her hand as she went to grab for her walking stick. "Seein' double in de jungle's bad news. Prob'ly bad I'm a little tipsy already, but I doubt I'll run into anyting. I haven't yet."

Sliding off the barstool, she stood on wobbly legs and leaned heavily on the stick for support. "Anyone who tinks vultures make good fixin's would be a damned idiot, anyway..."

"I chose to live in de jungle, so it's best to exercise some degree of 'sponsibility... not too stringent if you life within the safety of de village. Nasty s**t lurks in de jungle. I'm glad I can say I've never met any of 'em." Kaveri straightened up, stretching her neck as long as it could go.

"And I don't tink dey do... just be sure you can carry it all if you do," the vulture shrugged, "Take as much as you want. I tink dey have to refill it, which means buying more s**t, and it would be nice to know you've put a small dent in de lab's coffers in making dem have to buy more expensive liquor."

Given how Moreau's bank account seems to be infinite, this probably wouldn't even put a dent in anything at all. It was still nice to pretend that you were doing something that might become a nuisance to the labs that didn't involve provoking the chip.