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Pax bows its head. "If that is your will. I can help. If you'd like."

It lifts its gaze again. It smiles at Thorne, at Shiloh, at the fetches, all equally, as if they're all the same. "You are what you are," it says. "What you have always been. This is not a change as you fear it."

To Shiloh: "It's the first time the choice has been made for you. It is... complicated. I do not really understand it. If I try to explain, I think you will only become more frustrated." It falls silent for a moment.

"You may choose your own place," says Pax. "For now, you have spaces here in the Court to keep your fetch."

It crosses the room to Rabbit, its hooves clicking against the floor. "Yes," it says, gathering up one of the little squeepers. "You'll be less of what you were and more of what you are. It is natural, but accelerated." It gently bounces the little creature in its hands, and it starts to flail its wings through the bouncing. "Do not be afraid."

Don't be afraid. It was easy to hear, to smile and nod and agree to try, but much harder to actually accomplish. Rabbit managed an, "Okay," watching Pax bounce the squeeper with a small, worried smile.

He was still seated, the fetch he was pointedly refusing to look at standing by his shoulder. He'd deal with it later, since apparently it wasn't going anywhere. Pax had spoken of mentors, of him being a peer of Father's now. Rabbit only hoped Ezra was well equipped to deal with wibbling, confused explosions, because he was pretty sure he was building up to one. It was either that or an ulcer.

He looked past the deer creature to the others, wondering if he should be asking for addresses or phone numbers like it was the last week of the school year and they wouldn't see each other all summer. K.I.T. Huxy! In the end he stayed silent, waiting for a more proper dismissal. He had little doubt that if they were meant to see each other in Ashdown, the world would find a way to make sure they did.

Thorne sighs out at the interactions around him, at Mare loitering at his shoulder, looking beautiful in her wreckage, graceful even in undeath.

He looks over at Alois, eyebrow raising.

"Very well, if you insist," he says, mild, and crosses to Alois. In one fluid motion, he has the other in his arms, careful as though he were carrying the baby squeeps Rabbit now had. It is like watching an Olympic feat, Thorne carrying others. He's well accustomed to it by now, at the very least, and he does not leave must room for protest.

He looks at Pax.

"Is there anything else?" He asks, gently.

To the rest, he says, "I'm not difficult to find in Ashdown. If you call for me, I'll come. And if you need a safe place, I have one with enough space for you to crash or hide out. As for this... I agree that we should discuss it. After someone goes to the hospital."

He looks over at Shiloh. His eyes are shadowed, and he bumps a shoulder up in a silent question.

Will you be alright?

A being had appeared at Hux's elbow almost as soon as he'd settled into one of the high-backed chairs. A fetch. His fetch.

'lilt,' it said without words. 'i am lilt.'

Its voice was soft and sweet and seemingly innocent; it floated at the back of his mind and brought forth a sugary taste in his mouth that made him grimace. He didn't bother to look at her, just stared forward; at Pax, as they spoke.

The fetch whined. It touched his arm and he jerked the limb away with a warning growl.

'master,' it whined. 'i love you, i'll do anything for you, please look at me.'

Hux refused. His grey-blue eyes had darkened and they boiled with both hate and disgust. He wanted nothing to do with his new title, nothing to do with his fetch. All he wanted to do was curl up on the floor of his sister's home and not. think. yet here he was, summoned against his will by an otherwordly beast that pretended to be friendly. Annoyingly sober.

Even as the others continued to question the 'friendly' one, Hux stayed quiet. He brooded.

Lilt collapsed in an ugly lump beside his chair, shunned and miserable because of it.