Sup, yo? Recognize, I'm baaack. :)

I know Max is kind of cruel and heartless, but I need her like this for a while. It all falls into place soon, people. (:

Iris

I looked on, in slight terror, as I was brought into a strange house. All the new scents hit me full force, and it took me quite a while to acclimatize to my new surroundings. The little girl, Angel, held me as this so-called Max sprung up…a dog crate? I barked a vicious bark, writhing violently in Angel's arms at the mere sight of the contraption. Not again! I begged in my head. Not again…

Angel rested my writhing body inside the metal wired-domain. After a moment, she blinked, looking up. "I heard her think!" She hadn't even been fazed at all by my barking shenanigan.

Max grinned triumphantly. "What'd you hear?"

"She's scared of the crate," Angel inferred, staring down at me. I threw a bitch fit, clawing at the cage doors and barking.

A strawberry blonde boy descended the stairs, his pale blue eyes calculating. One of them, however, was cloudy. I assumed it was sightless. "What is going on down here?" the boy scowled, coming to a halt at the bottom of the staircase. His one good eye scanned the entire scene, eventually landing upon me. "Oh no. Not another one! I refuse to carry this…thing during our flights!"

Angel smiled. "You're just cranky because she woke you up from your nap, Iggy."

"Damn straight," he grumbled, walking forward. "Where'd you find this one this time, hmm? Junkyard?"

"At least I look better than you!" I snapped. My first words in months. Unfortunately, they were spoken in front of them, and they weren't kind words at all. I wasn't usually mean; only in situations such as this one.

"She spoke," Fang said, almost inaudibly.

"Yeah, well, let's leave her alone for the night. Maybe the smell of Ig's cooking will jolt her to her senses."

I whined, pawing at the crate. I scratched at the harness around my body as well. After getting no attention, I decided that all hope of getting out of here would be fruitless. Whimpering and crying, I laid down on the hard tray of my crate and tried to sleep. I began to think back to the times when I had begged and pleaded with them to let me go. Now that I think about it, they're just as bad as the damn whitecoats.


I was, in fact, woken by the smell of delicious cooking. As a response to my snarling stomach, I whined, causing a fit to erupt. I wasn't sure if they were going to feed me or not, but they better, lest angry Iris come out. A force definitely not to be reckoned with.

"Well, she's awake," the boy from before, known as Iggy, called, flipping pancakes in one pan, and frying bacon in the other. The mere smell of the delicious delicacy known to the world as bacon intoxicated my senses. Which is a terrible, terrible thing.

Because I morph when I lose control of my senses.

Barking and whining, I pawed at the cage door, even as my small paws slowly turned into fingers. As soon as I was full human, I stopped the canine speak and looked around. Uh oh…

Iggy looked over at the cage, and his eyes widened, then softened, then became alarmed. "Flock, that is not a Westie."

"Igs, what do you—" Max paused in the doorway, eyes wide. "You're…that girl…" The rest of this "Flock" had followed, consisting of Angel and Fang, and dark, mocha skinned girl with brown eyes, whom I'd hadn't had the pleasure of meeting.

I nodded quietly, my face stoic, giving away nothing. I turned my head, dark curls shifting as I lifted my nose slightly in the air in an ignorant gesture. If they had the nerve to leave me behind so many times, I'll just ignore them all, I grumbled to myself, not even minding being inside the crate now. As long as being in here didn't require me speaking to the likes of them, I was perfectly fine.

"I can hear her thoughts," Angel spoke up again. "Max, she's—"

"I don't want to hear it, Angel," she grumbled, sighing. "Not now." She ruffled the little girl's hair, murmuring softly to herself, and then her face hardened. Max took "intimidating" strides toward where I was held captive. Boy, I hate not being eye level to someone I hate.

"You ready to give up some info, whatever you are? You're working for the whitecoats, aren't you?" she growled, locking eyes with me.

I snorted, my arms finding each other so they could cross. I closed my eyes, sliding down to curl up in a ball and face the wall. Not getting anything out of me, My thoughts mumbled. And even if I did have a secret…why tell you?

"Woah, Fang. Looks like you've got some competition in the silence department," the mocha-skinned girl joked. She pushed him lightly.

Iggy eyed the girl. "The shortest sentence ever formed by our six-freak-famous Nudge! Give her a hand, everybody!"

The girl, apparently named Nudge, smiled, clapping. She looked no older than twelve, whereas Angel looked about six or seven. This Iggy character had the height of an average sixteen year old, but his demeanor earned him a branding of a fourteen year old.

Max, however, was shorter than both Fang and Iggy, but her tenacity made up for what she lacked in the height department. Last but not least, our pleasantly quiet friend Fang. His hair was just touching his shoulder, one bang cut a certain way so it hung in front of his left eye. Both eyes were a piercing obsidian. He looked around fourteen, fifteen as well.

I heard an angry scoff, followed by footsteps receding from my side. "She will be voluntarily skipping breakfast. Is that clear?" Max commanded, obviously furious with my lack of communication. Good. I didn't like her either. Plus I got to be alone? It's a win-win. You know, except for the not eating part…

I looked down at my stomach, which was feeling the growls and pangs of hunger currently. I leaned against the cool wire, sighing heartily. "How're you getting out of this one, Iris?" I whispered, almost inaudibly, to myself.

After a while, I heard shuffles and plates clanging and banging against one another. Assuming breakfast had been finished, I opened my left eye, (the blue one) and stared at the shadows this "Flock" were casting inside the kitchen. Then, they shuffled out, one by one, out the back door.

"Take off without me, guys! I left something in my room. I'll meet you there!" The tall blonde boy, Iggy, (Jesus, I gotta get these names right) walked towards my miniature prison with a plate. I smelt the most incredible smell ever—bacon, duh—and nearly fainted as my stomach leapt, clawing to escape my body and sustain itself.

My multicolored eyes locked on the plate, and I had a pleading look in my eye as he grasped the crate lock. He gently opened the door, sliding the plate inside.

He turned his back on me, waiting while I literally inhaled the food. As I was finishing up, Iggy turned back to me, crouching to cage level. "Now that you've been fed," he began, taking the plate back. "Wanna tell me something?"

I smirked. It wouldn't be that easy. "I could tell you…but then I'd have to kill you."