Welcome to Gaia! ::

He ran...and ran...and ran...and as he went, the smells intensified so much that his stomach started to ache painfully and he almost started to drool. The smell of meat was so welcoming, both to his human side and his tiger side.

Perhaps fifteen minutes later, he finally burst from the jungle's enclosure and found himself among the duplexes and it was then that the glimmer of lights about in each building combined with the smells of food nearly made him cry out in absolute, raw relief.

"THANK YA JESUS CHRIST GOD ALMIGHTY," he whooped with glee, running to the nearest duplex (even if it wasn't his) and testing to see if the door would open. When it swung open easily on it's hinge, he shouted again and nearly fell down the stairs in his haste.

Where was his duplex?! He had almost forgotten his assignment...but then he saw tell-tale signs of where a broken window had been and he headed for it like a shark after a wounded fish.

Chubbs wandered, tired, hungry, weak and cold. He rested a moment, leaning on his arm to catch a breath in the rain. The noise of the rain though soon faded as the clouds only drizzled over him. He sighed and continued on, trying to find a sign to reconise, a land mark that would help him with his search for either of the two girls. He was worried where they had ended up. Rubbing his shoulder, it felt better from the bite and was healing up nicely. He wished he kept the other half of the animal to eat.

The loud click that echo'd over the island and sent birds flying made him jump a bit. His ears perked at the hum and even from where he was after a few moments, he could hear the cries of people. From where he was he could see lights, the power was back!. Chubbs grinned and threw up his hands and started towards the lights.... but then he stopped.

Why had the power died in the first place? Chubbs began to wonder about the last two months, and how people were changing still. His stomach grumbled, begging him to see if the cafeteria was open, but his mind, it was all too suspicous. Chubbs looked around the jungle, he had survived this long out here, could he continue to do so? It felt good to know he didn't need Moreau or his so called gifts. That's when Chubbs made his decision. Making his way through the jungle, he decided to find Amaya and Joliette first, in case they were hurt or lost. But once he was done, he'd take the stuff he brought like some clothes and wouldn't return.

Em felt completely clean for the first time since she'd woken up in the arms of Angelina... all those many weeks ago. She hadn't known at the time that she was clinging not only a girl who would soon grow to despise her- but also, to those last fragments of her easier life in the village- in this mock civilization that Moreau had thrust upon them all.

She still wasn't truly clean- for her clothes were the same she'd been wearing since the beginning- but she'd taken a long, soaking swim in the lake, and more than that- she felt cleansed, eased by her decision.

Her things were just where Joli had said they'd be- behind the large rock that was ten or so feet into the jungle that was nearer to the cafeteria than to any other building. Emelyn saw the black garbage bag at several paces- for although the evening was already winding down, her vision was surely more keen at these hours than during the bright peak of day. Inside the bag, Emelyn noticed at a quick glance a familiar white gleam- Joli had wrapped her things inside her sheet. It was a sweet precaution, and Emelyn was grateful- though a part of her had hoped a change of clothes would be readily available on top. But it could wait.

She slung the bag over her shoulder, then regretted doing so as the quills on her back stood to mock-attention and made miniscule cuts in the side. So she held it instead hugged to her chest, and set out deeper into the woods. Before she disappeared completely into this new way of life, however... she was drawn out, as if by a lilting song carried on the wind. Emelyn paused, hearing now only her own breath, even and heavy on the quickly cooling evening air. There it was again- a soft, melancholy tune. Emelyn didn't know who it was, so she headed towards the sound.

"Emer!" Em said, her voice laced with surprise. She took a step towards the disheveled woman and furrowed her brows, glancing in the direction of the village as she did, as if to see through the thick foliage to the buildings there.

"What are you doing out here? ...Why haven't you gone back to the village?" The girl looked half-starved, and those patchy, dried brown spots were undeniably blood- perhaps blood mixed with earth.

"I understand..." Emelyn said, answering the first part of Emerwyn's words. "...And I didn't 'come back'. ...I never left. I'm never going back," she finished, answering the last. She shifted her makeshift pack up, starting to feel its weight.

"I can't go back there and live a life of hypocricy. It's just... too much. All the sweet memories I have of my life, all my principles are jeopardized every second I'm in that den of lies. ...Sorry. I'll put away the soapbox. ...You know, you should really get something to eat. Take a shower, sleep- you look half-dead." She was worried about the deer-woman, and had been since she'd met her, vomiting blood on the clifftops. Obviously, this island, this lifestyle- had started to take its toll on her, and this was just another step in the path to her self-destruction. Emelyn suddenly felt bad for preaching her plan to stay in nature to Emerwyn, who could obviously benefit from the stability and the aid of the village.

Emelyn didn't understand all of what the woman was saying, but she understood the meaning behind it, the confusion, the pain, and she nodded sagely.

"There is enough to eat out here. ...But I think it would be easier on you if you were further along in your transformation." She didn't respond to Emerwyn's statement of health- for she didn't look well, and Emelyn didn't want to make too much of an issue out of what seemed to be a cycle effect with the poor deer-woman. Her mind, instead, preyed on the idea that at one point, more islanders may choose to live, defiant of Moreau's faux civilization. She looked into the darkening woods and sighed.

"I'm sorry you have so many... natural enemies. I don't know how safe it would be for you to be out here." Emelyn was afraid that her earlier words had ripened this dissent in Emerwyn, caused her to feel this was the right course of action... when she may be sorely in need of medical attention, food- and some comfort. The latter, if not just for the health of her mind...

She didn't know entirely how to respond. Emerwyn spoke in rhymeless poems- dark stanzas of pain that Emelyn didn't begin to understand the many depths of. So she did what all she could- she dropped her bag gently to earth and came forward to place a comforting hand on Emer's arm.

"What objects are there that caused you pain? Is there any way to avoid them?"

"Them?" ...This didn't sound like a talk of objects, painful mementos any longer. As if being handed a key to her language, Emelyn understood that they had crossed a threshold in understanding. Emerwyn was speaking about people.

"It's not your fault," she said soothingly, reigning back on her physical comfort, but easing the feeling of that touch into the sound of her voice. "I'm sure you haven't hurt anyone. And not intentionally."