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Bouts of fatigue and restlessness at inopportune times came with disability, but it had been a very long time since they came about like clockwork, and they'd never been as reliable as Eve was finding them now. She was barely keeping awake minding the store, caught herself napping tactfully in patches of sun when she was home, but then the very moment dusk hit her body was full of energy. She wanted to move around. Do something. Calling up Lucas and just going on a walk was an idea that crossed her mind more than once, but she was hesitant to bother him just yet.

So it was almost 1am, and she was out in front of her home -- in her pajamas and her chair -- with a strong chamomile tea, so she could settle herself down enough to manage another half hour of sleep. Which should have been utterly exhausting, but it wasn't.

It was a charming wedding picture. There was Leila in a pale yellow dress with a crown of white and gold flowers, sitting sideways on Eve's lap in her chair, which had been decorated to pass for a fairy queen's throne. Eve was in a dress of matching style to her newlywed's, but in dark, subdued dusky purple. They were looking straight at each other, caught in the middle of laughing about something, as a sunrise illuminated a park flower garden in the background.

In response to Lady's news, Eve simply said, "Oh."

That was certainly a lot to unpack.

"When did that happen?"

"Yes, I did meet him. And after ten seconds, he was like a little brother or son to me. He also sent me a text message earlier..."

There was half a smirk on her face as she grabbed her phone and pulled the message up, before holding it up for the girl to read. Along with their lunch plans, and a couple other check-ins since, there was a more telling message:



"I've always thought of myself as more of a Willow. Are you here to let me know I'm actually an Oz?"

"Buffy the Vampire Slayer," Eve explained. "Some of your wisecracks sound like Buffyspeak, so I guessed you might be a fan."

Then she realized Lady wouldn't know what she meant by that, either.

"Buffyspeak is, um. The dialogue style. Sorry for assuming on both of those things, though." She wheeled herself back inside, waving Lady in along with her and gesturing again to offer space on the couch. "Do you have time to sit with me for a while? If you're here for real this time I can make you something to drink, in exchange for a more proper talk."

Like ashes? Wasn't that part of the zombie curse in Pirates of the Caribbean? Eve took a moment to put her cup in the dishwasher, considering this circumstance, before returning with a lighter and a fresh incense stick instead of more tea. Maybe she'd at least be able to smell nice things.

She lit the incense, a mild sandalwood smell curling outward with the smoke, as she replied. "Well, I'm awake right now. I don't really want to be, but... actually, I sort of do, I suppose. On the other hand, it's hard not to sleep all day. Not as dramatic a development as the last one, but there it is." Turning back to Lady, she asked, "By the way, are you doing well?"

There was a small, sardonic laugh -- not her usual one -- at the quip about periods. "Honestly, that aspect of cis womanhood never interested me much," Eve admitted. Fate could be goddamn ironic sometimes. Knowing that she'd go back to a normal sleep schedule eventually, though; that was a bit of a relief. It meant she could keep the store open.

She rubbed a thumb thoughtfully along the end of her armrest. "So what am I becoming, if not a werewolf?" There were a lot of questions. Might as well start with the easiest one.

"If you want to get pregnant eventually, it does," Eve offered with a half-shrug.

Well.

"So I'm a fox, Lucas is a wolf..." she was counting off on her fingers -- a third was left hanging, unaccounted for, turning into an open-handed gesture towards Lady. "What does that make you? Besides a spirit, I mean."

With all of Lady's nonchalant dispensing of information, Eve wasn't expecting her to shapeshift right then and there. It elicited an audible gasp to see her do so, with all the same lack of ceremony with which the girl seemed to say and do everything else.

And then there was a young deer on her couch. Without thinking at all about it, she followed through on the temptation to reach over and scratch the transformed Lady on the top of her head, right between the keratinous nubs.

"You did that so easily," Eve marveled. Then she remembered she was still talking to a person, in spite of appearances, and apologetically drew her hand away. "So your soul is... somewhere, but your body's still among the living? Is there any way to get you back in it?" Never mind her own laundry list of concerns and curiosities about herself; the girl's situation sounded like complete agony.