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It was the middle of the afternoon, and Oz had ventured out of his still trashed duplex in what he deemed a quiet time of the day. Any earlier and he'd run into lunchtime goers. Any later he'd run into dinenrtime goears or evening people. No, he told himself that this was the perfect time to go wandering if he didn't want to be seen.

Obviously, he couldn't escape totally unnoticed. Hell, he was bordering on 6ft 6' now, and possibly weighed 300-400lbs. Not hard to hide, no matter where you went on the Island. He'd endured painful greetings and fleeting chats with Islanders during mealtimes and other unfortunate occasions. He had yet to return to the construction site, or even go visit Marshall. He didn't dare.

So it was, in this state of self-pity and self-loathing that he wandered past the lake. With all memory of Billy living there having flown out of his ears, he approached its age and kneeled down. He took an awkward handful of the cool-warm water and splashed it into his face, staring out over its vastness for a while. Then he lifted himself up again, only to hobble over to a rock by the edge and 'nest' himself there.

Oz looked truly miserable and quite confused in the great scheme of things.

Indeed, Billy's voice was a shadow of what it had been...since it sailed right past Oz's hearing. He'd heard something, enough to rouse him from a depressing stupor on his rock. But he couldn't pinpoint what he;d heard or where from.

So he did the rational thing - began to look around. Much to his startled surprise, Billy's head bobbed in the water, visibly different from last he saw the octo-man. What was it that disturbed Oz the most - his own morbid curiosity at the very amphibious Billy, or the sheer repulsion for something so slimy that actually used to be a person.

Oz's mouth hung agape for only a few brief moments before letting a horrified exclamation escape him.

"Yah!" he blurted as he shuffled off his rock post-haste, huddling by it and peering over into the water.

Still trying to fight back a wave of discomfort and sickness at the sight of Billy moving his tentacles about, Oz was not reassured or made happier by the octoman's supposed acceptance of Oz's new look.

"Don't make me feel worse," he complained, feeling and acting much like a pouting child.

He wrapped his arms about himself in a comforting gesture, quite the farcry from the muscle rugby player he was proud to be.

Oz shot a fleeting glare at the octo man, hating to admit that he was right. Oz could be in a much more gruesome situation right about now, and he should be thankful that he hadn't lost anything.

But he didn't feel grateful, not in the slightest. He kept switching his attention from his disfigured feet and back to Billy, the loss of his very identity haunting him. A disgruntled growl escaped him.

"True, at least I'm not as ugly as you," he said, trying to summon forth some humour.

"Just before New Year's...what a resolution to make. 'This year, I will turn into an animal-thing and nothings going to stop me,'" he said in bitter sarcasm.

With a very angry huff, he picked up a small rock and just threw it into the lake in frustration. A greater portion of gorilla had made itself known this time, not just physically, but mentally, and part of his almost constant aggitation was the equally relentless battle between humanity and animosity that was raging inside.

"When did you change again?"

"Heh, seems like we both got more than we bargained for around Christmas time. Next year, Santa can just piss off," he replied with a strong animal-like grunt.

Oz wrinkled his nose in indignation at Billy's 'Ain't you a hairy bruit then.' It reminded him all too much of when grandmother's see you for the first time in months and say 'Aren't you a big boy then' or when people approach animals and go 'Aren't you a funny looking thing' or 'Aren't you a cute thing.' He didn't reply to that.

"Bleh, I'm probably the reason no one wants to go back to the construction site," he said, hanging his head slightly and look again to his toes.

Oz was somehwat glad people weren't avoiding the site. Maybe they knew he was being a hermit and felt safe to be there now. Regardless, he dreaded the day he went back to help, if indeed he was going to be allowed to help ever again.

"No...but I might as well have done...Marshall broke his arm because of me," he said sullenly, almost mumbling.

"It was a pretty big mistake..." Oz began, making excuses.

But whether Billy had ment to or not, he'd made a very valid point, and one that Oz was finding very hard to deny. He shuffled about so that he sat crouch with knees pulled up to stomach (since his chest was too far up now), staring at his odd looking feet.

"What else can I do?" he asked, lifting his head to look at Billy curiously.

He wondered if he was as slimy in personality as he was physically.