Hey, apologies! I know it's been a few months! ^^; But here we are - Chapter 6 of FoH! Heh-ha!

Also, kudos to everyone now following me on Twitter - thanks you guys!

Chapter 6: Feeling Out, Fitting In

Michelangelo was sitting on the floor when Waldorf Bauer came into the Holding Area, and to the handler's surprise, he was fighting with his collar. "Hey!" barked the man, looking suddenly anxious, "What're you doing?"

Upon hearing the reprimand Mikey immediately stopped, but flashed the Chief Handler an unfriendly glare before jerking his face away. Indeed, the young turtle was tempted to ignore Waldorf altogether, but, considering the man was so big, pretending he hadn't just entered the room was a stretch even for Mikey's imagination.

Bauer regarded Mike a moment before deciding to approach, an action which prompted the young turtle to suddenly glower in his direction. Waldorf caught the meaning of the look right away, and his shoulders sagged as he sighed. "Look, I'm sorry about what happened earlier." he said, "I didn't mean for any of that to happen. I didn't know all that had been scheduled for today."

Mikey cast his eyes toward the floor, causing Waldorf's brow to crease. "I'm sorry what I said turned out to be false. From now on I promise you, that if I can't guarantee what I say will happen, then I won't say anything at all."

"Hmph, so I guess that means I should be worried when you don't say much?" Mikey looked down at his feet, but even so the Handler could tell his expression had softened a little.

"Yes, well… I decided to bring you your dinner a bit early." Mike's head snapped up immediately. "With all that's happened, I realize I really haven't had a chance to feed you yet." Indeed, because of the way the day had progressed, Mikey had skipped breakfast and slept through lunch. His lower jaw quivered.

Waldorf smiled as he held out a wide-mouthed cereal bowl. Michelangelo fought back the urge to spring up and take it; hungry as he was, he felt enough like a dog in wearing the collar without acting like an eager puppy.

Waldorf blinked curiously; he could see that –for whatever reason– Mikey was holding back. "Surly you're hungry."

"Yes," Mike gulped.

The raven-haired man squatted down not far from him, and proffered the bowl. "Then here, eat."

Mikey could no longer resist and quickly reached out, taking the food from the handler. To his surprise, the bowl was full to the brim with salad, but it was a kind of salad he'd never seen before. Aside from greens, it had apple and cheese slices, as well as nuts and chunks of fish. The turtle's eyes widened as he stared at it. "What kind of salad is this?" he asked, with a measure of amazement.

"I made it myself." said Waldorf, "Looks good huh?"
"Chaaa!" grinned Mike, and held out his hand, "Got something to eat it with?"

Bauer blinked, "Oh!" ,and quickly reached into his inner pocket, "You know, I thought you might be one to eat with utensils." He held out a fork and a pair of chopsticks.

"Whoa, sweet!" Mikey took all three.

"Yes, well, when you bowed earlier and said your last name was Hamato, I got a distinctly oriental impression of your upbringing."

"Japanese," Mike clarified before shoving a whole chunk of the salad into his mouth. Waldorf stared in wonder as the three-fingered turtle then proceeded to sweep gob after gob into his mouth using only the chopsticks.

'Chopsticks!' he thought, 'He can wield those thin little sticks with those three awkward-looking fingers of his? Amazing!'

Mikey hummed happily as he ate, and quite soon, the bowl was empty. He gave a mild belch as he set it aside. "Man," he said, "For a salad that was actually really good!"

The handler smiled. "I'm glad to hear it." He grasped the empty bowl, and rose to his feet. "Are you ready to go outside then?"

Michelangelo tipped his head toward the burly man. "What?"

"Well," began Bauer, "We don't want you staying cooped up in here 24/7. As a matter of fact, Mr. Adelton has made it mandatory for any animals staying in the Holding Area to be let out twice a day."

Mikey's face creased as he tried to understand. "Let out? Dude, do you mean like literally outside, where you can see the sky and stuff?"

"Yes. I mean, while we do have one of the most sophisticated oxygenation systems filtering the air down here, there really is no substitute for fresh air. Plus staring at the same four walls for hours on end can be rather taxing on the mind and spirit."

Mikey stared, his jaw slightly open. 'They're just gonna let me go outside?' He swallowed and felt the collar briefly tighten against this throat. He frowned. OH yes, now that they'd implanted their tracking device, they had nothing to worry about…right?

Mikey stood suddenly, almost on impulse. "Outside huh?"

"Yes," Waldorf smiled, "If you're feeling up to it."

Mike's features tightened; his eyes narrowed, but he managed to smile up at the handler. "Yeah," he said, "I'm game."

–—–

Mikey followed Waldorf down a long white hall that ended in a set of wide metal doors. The handler pulled a switch, and Michelangelo watched as the doors rolled away to each side, revealing the grounds of Adelton's estate.

Waldorf looked down at the small turtle beside him; he opened his mouth to speak, but paused when he noticed Mikey tipping his beak upward ever so slightly.

Michelangelo sniffed the air; he could smell many things, but mainly the scent of cedar from the forest of trees further out. There were shrubs and flowers, and a grassy lawn that stretched beyond the trees; it was apparent all of these were being nicely maintained by the resident grounds keeper.

"So," spake Mike, and looked at the Chief Handler, "I can just go? Or, what?"

"Well, yes," replied the man, "But I'd better explain the rules."

"Rules?"

"Yes. Your collar," he briefly tapped the device to emphasize the subject, "It's a very high-tech accessory. It not only monitors everything from your heart rate to your body temperature but also transmits that information to the central CPU in the mansion." Mikey looked momentarily startled. "And, it will also emit a recall signal."

"Recall signal?"

"Yes. You're welcome to wander the grounds, but, when we want you to return, the collar will start to beep. From that point on you will have 10 minutes to head back here. If you have not responded to the recall signal within that time, the collar will immobilize you."

Mikey stiffened noticeably. "Immobilize?!" he suddenly grasped at the collar, but it was still too close to his neck for him to get his fingers around, "Like how?!"

Waldorf knew this was one bit of information he couldn't share with the turtle, and gave a solemn smile. "All I can say is, when you hear the recall signal, don't tarry. Head straight back here."

Mikey's eyes shone wide with worry. "But Wally–! Dude! 10 minutes! You mean no matter where I am, I only have 10 minutes to make it back here?"

"Oh no, you do in fact have more time than that." the man chuckled with slight embarrassment, "The 10-minute limit is to check your response time only. Your GEID chip is aware of your relative location, so as long as you're headed in this direction after hearing the beep, the immobilization feature won't activate even if 10 minutes have gone by."

"Oh," Mikey glanced down. So much new information; he was wondering if he'd be able to keep it all straight.

"Well," said the brawny handler, "I've a lot to do." He made to head back inside, but lingered a moment longer. "I hope you'll enjoy yourself out there. I mean, as much as the situation will allow." This he said, then headed away down the white hall.

Mikey watched him go before turning back to the outdoor scene. He frowned; there was no doubt he was a prisoner, he knew he was. But the way his captors were treating him made it difficult for him to know how to respond.

Traditionally, when you were being held captive, ropes or chains were involved to keep you restrained and restricted in movement; and abuse, whether physical or verbal, was often meted out so that you would know you were not among friends. But the truth was, none of these elements were present.

That is, with the exception of the collar. That smooth device which had neither clip nor buckle with which it could be removed. Mikey clenched his teeth. Whether it was apparent or not, this was his captors' chain. And until he could find a way to get it off, it would keep him from rejoining his family as effectively as any other form of bondage. Mike's throat tightened.

As though a whip had suddenly cracked the air, Mikey all at once bolted forward, racing out across the wide lawn. He ran down a grassy incline and straight into the grove of Lebanon cedars standing before him. He didn't know where he was going — he only knew he wanted to run, and he did, his feet pounding hard and fast over the ground.

Mikey passed into the coppice and quite soon the trees fell away, leaving a series of shallow hills in Mikey's path; the sight of them did not deter him. 'Run, just gotta run!' he screamed in his head, spurred forward by his frustration and inability to escape.

He crested one hill and then another, and then the one after that. But, after Michelangelo came over the next rise, he began to realize the grassy estate grounds were different from the paved streets of New York City; the muscles in his legs were already burning. He gasped in a lungful of air.

'What?' This sensation was hard for him to understand considering he was well accustomed to running through back alleys and over city rooftops. So what was so different about running over grass-covered earth?

Still angrily determined, Mikey shook his head and pushed forward, managing to propel himself to the top of the last hill. The leeward side however, was unexpectedly steep — and Mike didn't have time to pull back!

He gave a shriek as his feet slipped over the edge, and grunted sharply as his carapace hit the incline. On his sled-like shell, Michelangelo zoomed straight down. He grit his teeth and stuck his feet out; he wanted to reduce his speed, but when his heels suddenly caught a rut in the ground his momentum thrust him forward — and he came down against the earth -flat on his stomach- with a hard grunt.

The young turtle cringed, and decided not to rise until he'd caught his breath. So he lay, panting against the grass; he was a bit shaken up but unhurt — at least on the outside. The pain he was feeling on the inside was still so much greater. Indeed, the running had been a ready outlet for the raw emotions chewing at his insides, but had done little to propel him towards any real freedom.

'Stupid!' he thought, grasping grassblades as he pulled his fingers back into a fist, 'I'm so stupid!' He said this to himself because he knew he really was the only one he could blame for his current situation. He choked back a sob, his voice trembling on the edge of despair: "I wanna go home…"

"I dare say, are you all right?!"

Mikey gasped as a voice rang out somewhere behind him. He rolled over, and his eyes widened in shock — a giant polar bear was coming towards him! But it wasn't a polar bear. Though it was large, white, and hairy, this monstrous creature was walking easily on two legs, and it's face wasn't distinctly bear-like.

Still, whatever it was, it was coming right for Mikey, and the young turtle found this to be decidedly disconcerting. He bolted up, stumbling back the same moment he got to his feet, for the towering creature was almost right on top of him.

"OH, you're all right!" said the beast, relieved, "I must say, I'm glad of that!"

Mikey stood blinking at the hairy beast; the voice—he knew who this was. "Y-you're, Tusdin..?" he stammered, making an uncertain connection.

"Yes indeed!" chortled the hairy figure, "I must say, I'm surprised to see you. I didn't know it was you. Though I admit, I often wondered if they wouldn't one day catch up with you. Hard luck old boy."

Mikey looked sorely confused. "HUH?"

"Well, surly you haven't forgotten. I mean, I know it's been a few years, but surly you remember me, or at least my kind. You rescued one of my kith from that band of human hunters in the mountains. You were very brave, chivalrous even, offering to take his place the way you did. Which is why we were more than happy to return the favor when those same wretched humans took you captive."

Mikey's face was creasing in almost painful confusion; his mind was doing somersaults trying to understand where this creature was coming from. What was he talking about?

"Still," continued Tusdin, fingering his long chin, "It does seem you've changed a bit since last I saw you. Wasn't the last mask you wore blue? Do you have one in every colour?"

Mikey's eyes became as wide as sand dollars. "What?! Blue? Dude, that's my brother Leo! You know Leo?!"

Tusdin took a step back and raised an eyebrow while eyeing Mike. "Brother?"

"Yeah! My brother Leo! Well, Leonardo. He's the oldest of all my brothers. I'm the youngest , my name's Michelangelo!" All at once, Mikey's face adopted a fairly serious aspect. "Dude… how did you meet my brother again? I mean, what was all that about hunters and stuff?"

Tusdin smiled with a measure of whimsy. "You mean he didn't tell you?"

"Nah man! Dude's quiet about a lot'a stuff." explained Mike.

"I see." said Tusdin, shifting his weight from one leg to the other, "Well, I'll be delighted to tell you the tale Michelangelo. As I said last night, my name is Tusdin – pleased to meet you old chap."

"Same here." smiled Mike, his eyes then darting from the hairy beast's toes to the tip of his head, "What uh, what exactly are you anyway?"

Tusdin blinked before abruptly exploding with laughter, roaring so loud in fact it almost scared Mikey out of his shell. "OH, my my," said Tusdin, wiping a tear from his eye, "I'm sorry, I didn't realized it wasn't obvious. I'm a yeti."

Mikey realized he'd heard that word recently. "Yeti..?"

"Well, more commonly known in this region as an abominable snowman. But I dare say, there's nothing abominable about me."

"Ooh," nodded Mikey, and grinned, "So, you're like a bigfoot only for snowy mountains, right?"

The yeti grunted and gave a crooked smile. "Well, more or less. Anyway, come! I'll be glad to recount your brother's tale of heroism in detail while I show you around. This is your first time being let out, yes?"

Mike nodded. "Yeah."

"Well come!" he placed his large hand on Michelangelo's shoulder, "I'll give you a tour of the grounds. There's plenty to see, and it's good for you to know your way around."

Mikey couldn't argue with that, and so readily followed the yeti over the next rise. He realized his legs were still strained from racing over the hills, but Tusdin's presence made this fact more tolerable.

Tusdin cleared his throat, about to begin his recount of Leonardo's intervention in the frosty mountains when it came suddenly to Michelangelo that there was something very important he needed to know. "Hey, waitaminute— there's something I've been wanting to know."

"Oh yes? And what's that?"

"Well," he looked around, opening his hands towards their surroundings, "Where are we?"

The yeti looked confused. "Well, surly you know we're on Adelton's land. He has roughly 20 acres of it."

Mike exhaled, his eyes half-lidded. "Yeah, I know that. What I mean is, where is that? Like, I mean, we're still in America right?"

"Oh, heh-ho," chuckled Tusdin, "Why yes, we are. To be more precise, we're in the state of Connecticut."

"Connecticut?" said Mikey, trying to recall the last map of the United States he'd seen, "How—? How far is that from New York?"

"New York?" asked Tusdin, "Is that where you're from?"

"Yes. Me and my brothers. But not our father." he added under his breath.

"Really? Which part?"

Mike raised an eyebrow. "New York—er, City, I mean. Manhattan to be exact. Why?"

"Well, I was just curious. And besides, it'll help me give you a more accurate estimate of how far you are from home."

Mikey's brow creased; the way the yeti had chosen to phrase his sentence made his heart feel all the more heavy.

"I've been here a while," explained Tusdin, as they approached a rushing brook; it was flowing away through a rocky rut in the ground, "So I've learned a few things from listening to the humans chatter amongst themselves. We are currently in the township of Greenwich, where the poshest of the posh like to rest their feet. Now, as I understand it, the state line or boundary of New York state is not very far from here."

Mike looked surprised. "Really?"

"Yes, but I'm afraid the township of New York City is still much further."

Mikey lowered his head. "Yeah, I thought we were on the road a while. Seemed like it took forever to get here… not that I wanted to." he added with a grumble.

"Now see, there you go being needlessly depressing." said Tusdin, "Believe me, my young friend, I am telling you the truth when I say that this place is a very nice place to live. There's always enough to eat, and there are never any threats to life and health. The grounds are beautiful and open, and the habitats we're provided have everything we need to live comfortably."

Mikey felt like he was getting punched in the gut. "But that's not really the point, is it? I mean, I don't belong here! This isn't my home!"

The yeti harrumphed. "So, New York is your home then, hmm?"

"Yes!" insisted Mikey, "Where my family is! I don't belong to this guy!" he threw his hand out to the side to emphasize this, "I don't care WHO he is!"

Tusdin took a step backward. "Well old chap, I'm afraid you will have to, and soon. Especially when we get to the Exposium."

Mikey's features hardened. "Exposium— what is that anyway?! I hear them all talking about it, but they don't say what it is."

"It's a human convention, of sorts, but only for those rich enough to possess creatures like us."

Michelangelo inhaled. "Like us..? You mean, animals who can speak — like they do?"

The yeti nodded. "Indeed, we are very rare, but certainly not unheard of– among a select few, at least. Those with the means seek us out, desiring to possess us as though we were the Koh-I-Noor itself." Tusdin smiled tiredly. "The Exposium, good sir, is where they all go to show off to one another. Yes, they get all puffed up with pride as they put us on display only to sneer and snigger behind their hands, believing the creature their rivals managed to procure is somehow inferior to their own. They do this every year."

Mikey blinked, trying to digest all that he was hearing.

"I dare say," continued Tusdin, "It's almost like a secret society. Indeed, they're all very pleased with themselves for keeping society-at-large ignorant of our existence. It makes them feel privileged and important."

Mikey's frown was contemplative. "What do you think would happen if all this got out? I mean, if everybody suddenly knew about us? Would these guys like, have to let us go, or—?"

"I would say that was a safe bet." answered the winter sasquatch, "Unfortunately, the people they'd be releasing us to would, I don't doubt, be their respective governments."

"Huh?"

"Indubitably, young fellow, for we would be seen as threats to public safety. And, because we were rare, they would want to study and catalogue us, all of which would entail vivisections and dissections for the lot of us."

Mikey jerked back in shock, feeling chilled to the marrow.

"I could be wrong, of course. But I'd rather not take the chance of finding out, eh?" The yeti moved past Mikey, stepping over the brook along the largest stones. "Come along, I want to show you the highest point on the property. You can see a great deal of the grounds from there and much of the surrounding area."

Mikey felt heavier than before as he moved to follow the yeti. 'There's gotta be something I can do!' he thought, anxiously, 'I can't just accept this! I can't just give up! My family, they—'

He looked towards the sky, his mind filling with images of his father and brothers' faces. 'For sure they know I'm gone by now.' his jaw tightened, 'But they won't know where to look. They won't know I'm in a completely different state!'

Tears seeped into the young turtle's eyes as Tusdin angled toward a slope dotted with trees. He and the yeti trudged upward, grasping the edges of boulders jutting from the earth as they climbed. Soon the boulders angled outward, forming into a rocky promontory that leaned out over the ground below.

"There, see!" said Tusdin, "You can see for miles! Well, a few anyway."

Mikey stepped out towards the nose of the promontory, and looked all around; indeed, he could see quite a distance, and everything was green. Feeling the warm glow of the sun on his skin, Mike turned to the west, raising his hand to shield his eyes; already the blazing orb was dipping towards the horizon.

"Today's Monday, right?" asked Mike.

"Yes. Tomorrow is Tuesday."

"Well, I was told we were gonna be leaving Wednesday, you know, for the Exposium."

"Yes, that's right." Tusdin raised a hairy eyebrow.

"Where is it anyway?"

"Where–? You mean where is the convention being held?"

Michelangelo nodded. Tustin gave a mild chuckle as he scratched the point of his nose. "Heh, well, I've got news for you old chum. It isn't anywhere here in the States."

Mike turned to the yeti, his eyes starkly wide.

"I'm afraid we have a long flight ahead of us. For you see, the Exposium is held each year in the South of Australia."

Mikey stiffened; it felt to him as though a doom bubble had just burst over his head. "A-A-Australia..? For how long?!"

"Mm, about a week. That gives our owners enough time to not only show off, but to do a little wheeling-and-dealing on the side." "Wha-?!" "Now now young fellow, you don't have to worry about being sold to a foreign master. Whatever Mr. Adelton brings into his collection, stays in his collection. We'll be coming back!"

This news was only moderately comforting. But still, a week in Australia? Mike had never even been out of New York State before now, let alone the entire U.S. of A. How would this affect his family's ability to find him?

'If they even can.' thought Mikey, dolefully. But he wanted them to, yes, more than anything. But how? HOW?

There was suddenly a beep. It sounded once, getting both Tusdin and Mikey's attention. Then it sounded again, this time in rapid succession. The hairy snowman pointed at Mike as a small red light began to flash on his collar. "You're being summoned back the manor."

Mikey felt his heart skip a beat. "Agh! W-which way is it?!" he cried, suddenly swinging 'round to see the landscape, "How do I get there, I mean what's the fastest way?!"

Tusdin set a firm steadying hand down on Michelangelo's shoulder. "Calm down." he said, urgently. Mikey turned his large worried eyes on the yeti. "Look," Tudsin pointed toward the distant trees, "Do you see that black shape, like a triangle shadow?"

Mike squinted as he looked in the direction indicated by the hairy finger. 'Black triangle?' He wasn't sure, for the shadows were lengthening in the fading sunlight, and everything was becoming gray.

"Just there," encouraged Tusdin, "Just neatly nestled in amongst those trees over there."

Mikey thought he could see something. "You mean that dark spot?"

"Yes." smiled the yeti, "That's the roof of the tallest spire in the manor's south-facing wall. If you keep that in your sights as you cross the grounds, you'll have a clear path all the way back."

Mikey's face betrayed his apprehension. "You, you're not coming?

"I'm not the one being summoned." explained the winter sasquatch. The red light was still flashing on the turtle's collar. "It's not a mass-recalling. You only have to go if your collar beeps." The yeti reached for his neck, and, as he pulled aside his long white throat-hairs, Michelangelo saw for the first time that he too had a collar. "See?" There was no flashing light.

"Oh," Mike looked down, then away, trying once more to spot the spire; he looked terribly nervous.

Tusdin sighed lightly, but his smile was kind. "Would you like me to go with you anyway?"

Mikey looked up with his endearing blue eyes, now dimmed in their brilliance by the waning light of evening. "Yeah, please?"

"All right then, let's go. We've been standing here talking for almost 5 minutes, if we don't get moving your collar will react."

Mike remembered the Chief Handler's warning. "What would happen to me?" he asked, as they hurried down the wooded-slope.

"Hmm, hard to say." replied the yeti, "We're each of us different, so I'm not sure it would immobilize us in the same way." They came down onto even ground and jogged forward.

"What does yours do?" quizzed Mikey.

"Oh, it's been a long time since it's gone off. But, the one time it did, it delivered a pinprick injection that made it impossible for me to move. I think I even fell asleep."

Mike pursed his lips. 'An injection?' He shook his head, deciding to focus on the task at hand; there wasn't any danger, as long as he made it back.

Up next: what have Mike's brothers been doing all this time? ? 0_0

Also, Tusdin's story about Leo helping the yeti is actually canon/official. It's from Leo's comic Prequel to the 2007 movie. I have this comic downloaded, so if you'd like to read it just let me know; I can probably email it to you. It's best to Note me on DeviantArt (if you have a DA account) since FF doesn't allow email addresses to be displayed with out spelling out DOT and AT.

Cheers friends! ^_^