Eliza wandered the sewers by herself, something that until now she had avoided. But she just couldn't stand to be alone in the lair with him one second longer. The further she got away his scent the clearer her head became. But no matter how far she traveled the burning and itching, the not-so-phantom sensation of her repressed animal nature trying to escape her self control, was becoming more and more persistent just underneath her skin. Her meticulously filled claws twitched open and closed with the effort not to tear away at her own skin.
She knew something was wrong. She had her theories but they seemed so far-fetched that she was not yet desperate enough to believe they could be true. In some ways she felt better than she ever had. Younger, stronger and she could swear that she had even dropped weight despite her increased height and strange new musculature. On the other hand, these instincts, just a few months old, were driving her appetites in disturbing directions. Every time she ignored the growing impulses, her body seemed to punish her with some new symptom. This morning her brush was full of clumps of fur and her pelt was noticeably thinner.
A warm breeze, somehow untainted by the stench of the sewers, ghosted past her only to swirl a small collection of trash at the base of a ladder. Letting her eyes travel upward she contemplated the manhole cover. Portal to freedom, so close, but ultimately unattainable. Her mutated form was a more effective cell than any structure made of concrete and steel. Still, what could it hurt?
He would not approve. She didn't care. She needed to taste some sort of freedom and escape. Maybe a trip above would cool the burning in her blood. Nothing and no one down here was helping. Perhaps something or someone up there could. Immediately she felt the comforting confirmation swell within her chest and the decision was made. With a hope brighter than she had felt in weeks the ferret-woman climbed the ladder to the surface.
With the growing heat during the day of the early summer, the temperature cooled slowly in the evenings, so that even in the pre-dawn, one only occasionally needed a jacket. It was a relief to not to have to carry hers around her waist until the late night when the breezes coming from the sea turned the air cooler than her bare arms found comfortable. But with both of her messenger bags laden with lotions, potions, and salves, The Phoenix doubted she would find the early morning cold a problem, if this happened to be a cold one.
Being alone on the streets of NYC was never a safe endeavor, no matter where one was endeavoring. Armed with her slingshot and bag of crimped bullet shells, and the beautifully carved knife on her belt, and no longer feeling like she'd been hit by a bus fighting ninja turtles, or feeling guilty for being so out of practice that she and her children were able to be hit by buses made up for four boys with shells, she was fully confident that in walking the streets of NYC on her own, she could take care of herself.
She turned the corner, and as she did, heard the sliding of a manhole cover. Oh, not the sewer! She had told herself she was over her encounter with the sea of rats that ran through the city only months before, with the strange man with the large, black sunhat she'd tried to help in the sewer, but the vision of the blackness weaving in and out of his head still left a taste of fear in her mouth when she thought about it too much.
The cover seemed to open terribly slowly, whether it actually did or not, she wasn't sure. She ducked back behind the corner, pressing herself against a building, and poking her head around to see what would emerge. If it was a rat, or a black sun hat, she was out of there!
'Why are these things so darn heavy!' Eliza contemplated as the steel cover side open only inches at a time. The tunnel was wide enough to allow her to ascend to the surface but narrowed significantly at the actual manhole, seemingly much smaller than she remembered from previous outings, giving her little room to maneuver. When she eventually had the lid at the halfway point she thrust herself out of the hole and put her weight into a shoulder thrust to finish the job. Winded she hungrily sucked in the fresh air. Allowing her gray muzzle to drop open in a slight pant. It was glorious! Once she was recovered she tilted her pink nose to the sky, drawing in a slow seeking breath. It was still the scent of the city. Gasoline exhaust, cigarette butts and even above ground the taint of urine.
But there were more lovely things also, salt and the nostalgic odor of exposed mud from a lowering tide. It reminded her of times spent fishing as girl with her father. There was the crisp chemical tang of warm linen, wafting in cycling puffs. There must be a dryer going somewhere nearby. Even closer was something she didn't expect.
Honey, olive oil and a plethora of other things all layered on top of each other that she couldn't identify but came across as all together herby. Looking around, which she really should have done earlier, she couldn't see anything but a normal alley way.
Shrugging away the unusual she was determined to not back away from her moment of stolen freedom. She made her way out of the hole, wiggling her hips as bit when their girth proved to exceed the provided exit circumference. Huffing at the indignity she exerted a bit too much force, not expecting her mutated anatomy to shift so easily to allow her to get through the small space, she tumbled head over heels out onto the pavement.
The back of her head hit the side of a large dumpster, effectively stopping her rolling progress, and she saw flashes of red and yellow behind her closed eyes. Groaning and rubbing her aching skull she was just glad no one saw that display of gracefulness. Then the sound of clothe and footsteps made her eyes snap open.
"Oh, this is just perfect." She quipped with agitation and more that a little fear.
It wasn't a sheet of rats, or a man with a black sun hat that emerged from the manhole cover-it was a ferret. Phoenix gave a start as a sable covered head emerged quickly for the hole, like a whack-a-mole game at the carnival and the manhole cover clattered behind the ferret's body. It was a mutant, she noted, a female one by the look of her rather unmistakable top half. She panted open-mouthed, as if she'd been underwater, trying to escape from something that would not give her air. Once she'd gotten her breath back, she saw the ferret woman reach her head up, her neck stretching as if to get her as far from the manhole as she could, and inhaled. Phoenix saw her close her eyes, like that one breath was something desperately needed, a drug needing to be taken.
She then opened her eyes, and took a quick look around. Phoenix could tell that it was not a practiced looking about, looking for danger signs.
The ferret woman put her arms on the road and tried to hoist herself out of the hole, only to be stopped by her lower half not cooperating. She wriggled in a typical mustelid fashion, and Phoenix smiled at the motion. The smile vanished the ferret popped out of the hole and went rolling across the street, hitting her head against a dumpster.
The healer dashed out from the corner, toward the mutant, who snapped apprehensively, "Oh, this is just perfect."
Phoenix heard the familiar fear in the woman's voice, the fear of humans, the fear of the world that would scream and run when a mutant tried to enter it. She had encountered it so many times, she couldn't count. In all of those innumerable encounters, she had learned that fear with mutants was something that had to be handled delicately. It could easily turn into to anger or aggression, which could easily land her in a fight that she'd rather not get into. Afraid mutants were the most dangerous, they fought like the animals that become irreparably part of their person. A human being held little chance against a mutant in such a frame of mind, even if the mutant may have once been a domestic pet.
Phoenix stopped her advance, and chuckled. "It is?" she said, as reassuringly as she could. "It looked more like an accident to me."
She felt the fear turn to adrenaline at the sight of the woman. She was in so much trouble. Trouble she didn't know she could she could get herself out of. Driven by a combination of instinct and self preservation, she started to assess the threat before her.
The woman was slight, looking almost like a caricature of a pack mule with her bulging bags. Eliza was easily larger and heavier than the woman. However there was a toneness to her exposed arms that hinted at conditioning and a confidence in her stance that spoke of experience. The obvious knife at her belt helped to complete the picture.
Then she laughed and joked at Eliza's tumbling exit and the fear and trepidation melted away. Maybe it was the lack of judgement in her voice or the calm that seemed to roll off of her. Or maybe Eliza had hit her head a little harder than she thought. Regardless she couldn't stop the snorted chortle that escaped her throat and bubbled through her snout.
"I did have to substitute a double for a triple, but I thought the overall routine had merit." Though she knew she was rambling on the ferret had struck her own funny bone and couldn't stop herself. "I'm sure the Russian judge will dock me points." She winced as her laughter caused her head to ache even more. "Oww, looks like I won't get a chance for redemption in the freestyle though."
Despite the growing throb in her temple she was almost deliriously happy and pleased at her own joke. But then the world started to tip and twirl and she wasn't laughing anymore.
The ferret woman knew something about gymnastics! Phoenix felt her heart sore, the terminology used in her youth making her heart swell in a way she didn't know would after all this time. The mutant in front of her continued laughing, much like she and her own family did when finding something supremely funny. Phoenix squatted down, one foot in front of the other, prepared to jump away should she have to, and said. "Those Russian judges will dock more than points, believe me."
The laughing stopped suddenly, and the woman swayed in front of her. Phoenix's warning bells went off, and her joking voice changed. "We need to stay still," she said as kindly as she could with still being firm. "We need to check your head. I think you maybe have gotten more than just a bump."
She unhooked the two bags off of her neck, and began to rummage through one of them. "Do you feel like you're going to throw up?"