The next day, Skye sat at the kitchen table without a care in the world as she waited for her breakfast to be ready. She was still adjusting to the concept of being able to have food whenever she wanted, and it was even harder for her to eat it slowly because somewhere, in the back of her mind, she thought that she would have it taken away and get beaten if she tried to take any more. It affected her appetite a lot, she was still scared to ask for more. She was also still underweight, still at about half of what it should be. Jemma was sitting across from her and pestering her with questions.

"How'd you get her to talk to you?" She asked excitedly. "Ooh, was it like, mental telepathy or something, 'cause I did a study on it a while back, I saw the notes and everything?" Her eyes widened. "So were you speaking wolf or was she speaking english?"

"I don't know." Skye shrugged.

"Well that wasn't very helpful," Jemma said with a frown.

"Sorry, Jem, but I don't know. She was definitely talking out loud, but it was like a mental translation kinda thing. It wasn't english, though. Or spanish, either. It sounded old and formal, like when we had to read Shakespeare when I was older."

"So then what was it?" Jemma thought to herself. "Old and formal," she muttered, thinking hard.

"Jem, you look like you're constipated," Skye said flatly, rolling her eyes.

"It's my thinking face!" She said defensively.

"Really? So, were you having a deep existential crisis when I accidentally walked in on you on the toilet last night?"

"Maybe." Jemma looked down. "Miss May?" She asked, trying to redirect everyone's focus from Skye's question.

"What's up, Simmons?"
"When's breakfast gonna be ready?"

"In about five minutes. Can you go get the boys?" Jemma and Skye looked at each other mischievously.

"Sure," Skye said slowly, smirking as she and Jemma crept up the stairs. Melinda looked at their retreating figures weirdly. Skye banged Grant's door open. "Rise and shine, sunshine!" She yelled as she opened the curtains on the other side of the room. He moaned with agony at the light.

"Close it!"

"Get up." Grant turned over and glared at her sleepily.

"You're a terrible person," he growled as he climbed out of his bed.

"I can live with that." In the next room over, Leo's room, Jemma was singing (surprisingly well, actually) like she was in a Disney movie. She opened the windows and breathed in the fresh air.

"Time for breakfast, Leo!" Jemma announced happily. He opened his eyes but quickly closed them again because of the bright light coming from outside.

"Noo!" He moaned as he rolled over and onto his stomach. "Five more minutes!"
"Leo, get up!" Jemma exclaimed. "Miss May is making pancakes!"
"Save some for me," he grumbled before starting to snore again.

"Leo, honestly, it's a miracle you've ever managed to accomplish anything with the amount of time you spend sleeping!" She tugged his arm gently. "Leo, get up!" She repeated. He groaned and rolled over, falling onto the floor with a grunt.

"Ow," he mumbled.

"I got attacked by coyotes. You fell off a bed. You'll live, Fitz," Skye said, rolling her eyes as she walked by the door and into Phil's room. "Psst, Phil," she whispered, getting onto the large bed. "Hey, Phil, Phil, guess what?" She poked him.

"Whaddya want?" He slurred tiredly.

"Phil, hey, hey Phil," Skye repeated. "Phil, Phil, come on, get up!"

He opened his eyes and blinked groggily. "I'm up. Now stop poking me." He got out of his bed with a thud. When they all got downstairs, Skye and Jemma resumed their positions at the table with the three boys stumbling behind.

"Hey, you should've been extras in Michael Jackson's video for Thriller," Melinda said jokingly as she sipped her coffee. Skye and Jemma snickered. "You would've fit right in!" Phil scowled as he plopped down at a chair. Grant did the same, but he was so tired he didn't realize that he had sat on top of Jemma.

"Get off me!" She complained, trying to push him off."This chair has a British accent," he mumbled.

"No, the person you're SITTING ON has a british accent!" Jemma finally managed to shove him off.

"This chair is rude." He got up and sat down next to her. Melinda put down her coffee and started passing out the pancakes, eggs, and bacon. She put the rest down on a large plate in the middle of the table before sitting down and taking some for herself.
When Phil took a bite, he said, "What recipe did you use?"

"The one on the box," she answered with a scoff.

"Take some more," Melinda urged. "You need the nutrition." Skye looked up at Melinda then at the plate. She reached out and quickly grabbed two more pancakes, dropping them on her plate and glancing up at Melinda nervously. She was surprised to see her not even looking.

"Not even a slap on the face," Skye mumbled to herself. "Nothing."

"Did you say something?" Phil asked, turning to her and immediately after shoving another piece of bacon in his mouth.

"No," Skye replied, forcing a smile. He nodded and returned to his food.

"So," Jemma started excitedly, "how many other wolves were there?" Skye groaned and dropped her head on the table.