I apologize if this chapter feels rather short and slow. I've been meaning to update and I've been going back and forth between what route I should take this story. Hopefully it's still enjoyable!

It wasn't long after her eldest sister's departure that Alex started to work longer hours at Central Command. She didn't ask why that was but guessed that they may have become shorthanded in officers. When he did come home it was usually in the later hours of the evening, a time that she often would already be in bed herself.

Her other sisters, Amue and Strongine, had already been gone for some time. Amue was travelling somewhere down south for her own pleasure and Strongine apparently had found herself a new boyfriend. One her mother described as being rather familiar (and somewhat scrawny).

It then went without saying that life at home had suddenly become quite dull. Or at least dull in the sense that those who she used to talk to were gone. The servants were still there of course, but they're jobs weren't to entertain her. Or at least not entertain her for extended periods of time.

It was for that reason that Catherine suddenly found herself spending more time with her smallest, and frankly meanest, pet. Something that no one at the Armstrong manor seemed to get. For the little thing sure was dramatic.

The first few days had been the hardest for itself and the youngest Armstrong. If it wasn't for the reassurance of the staff, she would have let them back into the cold world a long time ago. Any doubts she may have had from the beginning were just starting to fade. She no longer believed the strange and somewhat human looks it gave her to mean anything. In the end, her new friend couldn't possibly be capable of such complex feelings.

At the moment it was raining out. Something that seemed to happen quite often since putting up the glass tank in her room. She might have gone outside more if that wasn't the case. With little to do, the youngest Armstrong found herself becoming more and more secluded within her room.

While it was large, much larger than a girl her age needed, it lacked an abundance of material possessions. Once upon a time, at a much younger age, all the newest toys had nearly overflowed out of every box and crevice in the area. Lavish gifts from her family, especially her big brother, were always accepted politely.

But now at slightly more mature age, Catherine had only really kept a fraction of her childhood toys. What existed in her room other than the essentials were a couple short and stout bookshelves, heavily filled to the brim with whatever she could take from the family library.

In one corner of the rom, a couple pillows against the headboard of Catherine's bed kept her sitting upright while her knees brought an open book within close proximity to her mesmerized eyes. While she couldn't see it, despite the large tank being only adjacent from her bed, her little pet was also reading with such an intensity.

Or rather squinting harshly and attempting to see the cover. She might have laughed at such weird sight if she had glanced towards them. They stood upright on their hind legs and closely pressed themselves against the glass, so much so that it resembled a child smashing its face against a department store window. Their thin red lips appeared thicker through the glass while their eyes seemed to bulge out like a pair of cheap googly eyes.

Eventually the lizard grew impatient and started moving against the glass. Their teeth made such a grating sound that the book in Catherine's hands fell immediately onto the sheets. The creature turned its head away from the girl, opting to press its back against the glass, as the book slid slowly onto the ground with a plop. They couldn't tell what face she was making, not like they ever cared, but imagined her lips sagging down with the line of her gaze. She often looked like that when their little outbursts started up. Unfortunately they couldn't stir just enough negative feelings within her to secure their ticket back outside.

What lied before the creature, now facing towards the rest of their 'home', was a sizeable area meant to impersonate the grounds of a forest. While most of the dirt, near black in color, was moist for the most part, the few rocks residing within the tank were rather warm. Whether they were mechanically meant to be that temperature or just a factor from the lamp above them, the lizard did not care. Not like they required a warm, lit environment. Leaves of all colors and states of decay were littered about in the corners of the tank. Every now and again Catherine would come back from being outside and leave fresh ones against the edges of the glass. They were the only thing, other than food, that the lizard accepted from her.

There was a swishing sound, a familiar clash of skin on fabric that brought their attention back to the youngest Armstrong. They guessed Catherine had moved to pick the book back up from the ground and resume her previous activities, this time with a tad less enthusiasm. The echoed tapping of feet made them guess again and for a moment the little creature was inclined to turn around.

With her left index finger, Catherine knocked onto the edge of tank. She knew that they didn't enjoy such a nuisance so close to their head. Regardless, they didn't move. Though, when did the little creature ever do what she asked? There was an uncomfortable silence and the lizard was quite sure should we leave this time.

"Sorry If I've disturbed you," they blinked. When did this girl ever talk to them as if they were a person? In the brief time they had been together, she had remained rather silent and only spoke of them not to them. "You just look . . . really unhappy."

Part of them wanted to believe that this girl was beginning to understand. Another part knew that truly knowing and understanding them would only lead to their complete demise. One they had barely escaped only a few months ago.

Eventually the little lizard did give her a reply. Not a human one of course. Just a simple flick of their tale, one that kicked up a waft dirt from their habitat. Not turning around, they fell back down onto their hands (or rather various legs), stretched out, and crawled their way under a mess of fake branches. It didn't take an expert to tell the youngest Armstrong that they weren't happy.