The hours I spent in my room passed uneventfully. Occasionally, a White Coat would pass by, usually stopping to look at me a moment. As usual, I spent most of my time hanging from my perch, until I finally got bored enough to climb down and wander about the floor of my room. My feet had barely touched the ground for but a moment, when my sensitive ears heard the bolt to my door unlocking.

Spinning around, I looked up as the Whitecoat entered my room.

In case you didn't notice, there is one particular Whitecoat who looks after me most often. I've heard the other Whitecoats call 'Tim' or 'Timothy'. But I didn't really like that name, because when I look at him, with his ruffled brown hair and brown eyes, he just didn't look like a 'Tim'. At one point, someone, though I don't remember who, had called him 'Mister Brady'. Ever since I heard that, it was decided in my own mind his name was Brady, no matter what the other Whitecoats called him.

"Come on, up we go. I have somebody I want you to meet."

Reaching up, I took his outstretched hands and he pulled me up, gently hoisting me up onto his hip as he usually did.

Like I said, Brady is pretty much the only Whitecoat who really looks after me, or interacts with me at all. The other Whitecoats may bring me food or water or something, but anything else, Brady is always the one who is overseeing it. He has always been with me ever since I can remember, even the in the old days when I was wild and reckless, and had to be kept in a cage.

"Here we are."

Brady opened a big glass door and set me down inside, closing the door behind me.

It was a small space, probably only about twice the size of my own room. For me, it was perfect. I loved smaller places, they feel safe.

My new roommate however, apparently felt differently.

A small girl, not much taller than me, was thrashing about wildly at the other end of the room. She pounded her fists against the glass, yelling and screaming at the top of her lungs.

I watched her, confused.

She had bright, ruby red hair that grew down to her waist, and eyes to match, depending on how you looked at them. Her eyes seemed to flicker back and forth between black and dull red, almost as if they couldn't make up their minds. Her skin was shiny and tan, almost red as well if you squinted real hard.

But the thing I found most interesting were her ears.

They were big and pointed, kind of like mine, but mine rested close to my skull. Hers poked out away from her head, and to me looked almost like fox ears.

"Come on! You great big deformed puppy! Afraid to get your butt kicked by a little foxy, huh? Is that it?!"

The girl jumped about wildly, still pounding her fists as she taunted the Erasers on the other side of the glass. Most of them just ignored her, but a few others were beginning to get annoyed. They growled at her, their faces flickering to look more like snouts.

"Twenty-Seven! That is enough!"

A voice came over the intercom. The girl lowered her fists to her side, but continued to snarl back at the Erasers.

Bored, I looked up for a suitable perch. Though nothing would be quite as comfortable as my perch back in my own room, I settled for a steel crossbeam up towards the ceiling. Moistening my lips, I began to climb, that is until the voice came over the intercom again.

"No, no, wait a minute Forty-Three, I need you to stay on the ground for a while. I want you to say hello and get to know each other. After all, you two are going to be training together from now on."

The crimson girl turned around and eyed me curiously. Her eyes met mine a moment, and she jumped, averting her eyes. Then, slowly, she inched towards me.

"Hey… what's up?"

I gave a half-hearted smile and waved at her, then curled up by the wall. Slowly, the girl sank down next to me, twiddling her fingers on her knees

"So… um… well what's your name? Mine's Crimson."

I cocked my head at her, mouthing her words curiously. 'Crimson' what kind of a name was that? And who would give it to her? The Whitecoats? So far as I knew, they didn't name each subject individually. Did I have a name? I just had gotten used to being called 'Forty-Three.'

"Yeah, Crimson. That's my name. I gave it myself."

As she spoke, she ran a hand threw her ruby red hair and pulled it over her shoulder, smiling.

"Makes sense, right?"

I kind of laughed and nodded. I guess it did make sense.

"So, what about you? What's your name?"

I hung my head, my one eye jumping about, as if looking for an answer. Finally, I called on the one thing I could know for certain.

Raising my hands, I held four fingers up on my left hand and three on my right.

"Seven?" Crimson raised an eyebrow, obviously not understanding.

I rolled my eye, and held up my hands, shaking the left, then the right.

"Oh, I get it… Forty-Three, right?"

I clapped and nodded at her, smiling.

"So, wait, can you not speak or something?"

My face saddened and I shook my head.

"Oh… I'm sorry I didn't realize… this whole time I thought you were just being shy."

I shrugged and held up my right hand, signing 'it's OK'. Crimson just stared at me, confused.

Oh, never mind. I thought and flung my hands up in despair. Crimson smiled awkwardly and apologized again.

This wasn't what I was used to. Usually, I just let my fingers do the talking. But if what the Whitecoats said was true, if I was to be teamed up and training alongside Crimson, I was going to have to make sure she could understand me.

For the first time in my life, I desperately wanted to speak.

"Well," Said Crimson. "Mute or not, 'Fourty-Three is no suitable name."

She stood up and wiped her hands on her pants, and then she stroked her chin solemnly.

"Don't you worry chica, I will find you a name."