Wispy white clouds drifted on the wind, long scattered streaks breaking the monotony with channels to fly through and obstacles to weave between. Broad wings held the wind for lift while the narrow tips masterfully, delicately, provided accuracy and precision.

The cool air rushed into her body as she exerted herself, deep breaths to fill her with strength for the tighter turns and sharp ascents. Graceful, powerful, and free, she stretched her form through rolls, twists, and turns, ever refining her flight and working on being faster, stronger, and more agile. The ever-shifting sky made it difficult to know how much she was improving, if at all, but she stubbornly kept at it anyway.

The clouds parted to reveal clear, open sky, and a good view of the light beginning to shine from the horizon. Both relieved and reluctant, she rolled into a lazy dive, picking out a nice hill on the way down and soon flaring her wings into a graceful landing. With slow, deliberate movements, she lowered herself to her haunches and chest, tucking her wings and tail in against her sides, where she lay to pant the cool air.

She didn't really need to rest, still feeling strong and lively, but this season she was finding it somewhat difficult to focus on hunting until she was truly hungry for it. She felt warm, her breath heavy in her chest, and memories of her sire and dam drifted unbidden into her mind, her peculiar fatigue deepening while she ruminated. She hadn't thought about them for… many seasons; barely at all since flying from that familiar forest she had hatched in. So why now?

Something else was changing. She was already bigger, stronger, faster, than she had been back then, but this was something else. More memories surfaced, and she pawed at her head with a growl, feeling sad and uncomfortable. Grrr, what did she need to make this discomfort go away? Thinking about her sire and dam was making her want something, but she didn't know what. Not them – the thought of suddenly finding them in this vast world did not spark any joy, quite the opposite – but what else was there?

With another growl, she gave up on resting and stood to vigorously shake her whole body, trying to rid herself of this unfamiliar fatigue. She huffed her discontent before leaping back into the air to glide low over the trees, hoping she'd feel better with some prey in her belly.


Nothing ever changed. There were trees, hills, grass, and rivers. Above them drifted the wind, clouds, and lights in the sky. Among it all roamed prey of all sizes, some as small as the tip of her claw and others larger than her entire being. There were some differences as she flew, but ultimately, everything was in the realm of understanding and expectation.

Until the scent of blood drifted to her on the wind while she was looking for food. It was such a familiar smell that she thought nothing of it at first, but she began to wonder as she angled towards the meal. She had not killed the prey she could smell. So what had?

Cautious, as if she were hunting, she silently descended into a landing in the chest-high grass to proceed on the ground where she was less likely to be noticed, keeping downwind of the source of the scent. As she neared, taking careful steps, she could tell there was something else there too, something familiar, but impossible to tell what among the stifling scent of blood.

Sounds gradually met her ears, tearing of meat and breaking of bones, and she spotted movement among the sparse trees. She stalked around for a better angle, keeping downwind, trying to see over the tall grass while also staying low and out of sight, never ceasing her silent and careful approach. Part of her hoped it was her sire or dam, for what else could this be? But the thought put a pit in her stomach. They had disappeared a long time ago, and hadn't returned no matter how loudly she screeched for them. Had she failed because she hadn't wanted them enough? Because she thought she was independent and could live on her own? She had proven as much, but would they be angry with her? Disappointed? She bared her teeth and gave her head a shake-

A dark, familiar head rose above the grass, and she hurriedly ducked down, but no sooner had she moved that the head turned to look directly at her. She could almost feel those piercing eyes staring at her, but she remained hidden anyway, watching through the grass while uncertainty and worry turned her stomach, waves of it rolling through her with each quiet step moving towards her. She hoped her sire or dam, whichever this was, wouldn't be angry, she didn't like it when they were angry with her… Perhaps, if she was remorseful, they would not be so angry. Remorseful and also ill, things she knew would gain sympathy. Her ears and wings fell accordingly, tail curling around her side, and she slowly rose to peek over the grass…

Whoever they were, they were not angry or disappointed, but also not happy or relieved. Mostly they looked confused, wary, and perhaps curious. They approached slowly, looking directly at her… Her ears lifted as she caught the male's scent, now distinguishable over that of the mauled prey. He smelled a bit like her sire, the scent of a strong and healthy male, but he was not her sire; as much of a relief as that was, it didn't settle her stomach.

She could only stare as he walked right up to her, not a single thought crossing her mind, her body frozen without direction. Even when he parted the grass and stood before her, the wind shrouding her in his masculine scent, his muscled form casting a shadow across her, she couldn't move or think.

He rumbled quietly and scented her face, then her shoulder, his breath carrying scents of the meat he had been eating. She could only follow him with her eye as he walked around her wing, looking at her body. He scented her flank – she leapt to her paws as his nose brushed against her with a jolt of sensation, as if she had fallen on a particularly sharp stick, and he hopped back himself.

They stared at each other with wide eyes while her heart pounded in her chest. Eventually, finally, he snorted and turned away from her, walking back to his meal. She watched him go, return to his prey, and lie down to resume eating.

He wasn't her sire. He was… something new, someone new. What should she do? What should she have done? He had scented her, very closely – because he liked her scent? He had smelled quite nice himself… Why had his touch felt so intense? Why did he approach her? He must have wanted something, but now why was he leaving her alone? Did he not find what he wanted? Or did he already get it…?

Questions flooded her mind, none of them with any answers, right up until he finished cleaning himself off and looked her way again. It was only for a moment though, before he turned and stretched his wings to take flight. That was a relief – but as he crouched, preparing to leap, a heavy, horrible feeling settled in her chest, a familiar discomfort but far stronger than she had ever felt before.

Wait.

His leap carried him all the length of a paw, wings still poised to take off, nose pointed into the air, and after a heartbeat he settled onto his haunches to stare at the sky. She hesitantly began walking towards him, feeling… drawn to him, somehow. As if he could ease this discomfort that plagued her. She didn't want him to leave. But his mere presence caused her more discomfort. She didn't know what she should do around him, or what he would do around her, and she didn't like that. She didn't understand him.

As she neared him, his ears went up and he turned to look at her, freezing her for a moment. She didn't know what she was doing, or why… but she had one example to go off, somewhere to start. Just like he had done, she walked up to him and scented his snout, taking it in stride that he scented her again as well.

When he again moved to scent along her side, she copied him, their wings brushing against each other. She shuddered as his snout brushed the fins down her back before again touching against her flank, but she was expecting it this time and it wasn't nearly so jarring. His touch against her hindleg was actually quite nice, in a strange and unexpected way, and she somehow similarly enjoyed scenting him in return.

She followed him around as he followed her, chasing each other's tail, which might have annoyed her had she not found him so fascinating. The way his legs worked, bending at the joints to lift and move in an entrancing rhythm, how his partially raised wings bobbed and swayed with his gait, his long tail sweeping the ground as they circled one another-

Another jolt of sensation shot up her tail, and she leapt away from him – he bounded after her in high, graceful arcs, until she sprinted ahead and spun to face him. She wanted to growl at him, could feel it building in her throat, but held it back; she still didn't know what he wanted, or for that matter what she herself wanted.

He pranced to a stop, tilting his head at her, while she strongly considered just flying away. Part of her still wanted to stay, but this back and forth was exhausting, and she still couldn't figure him out… Before she could act, however, he turned and trotted away, returning to the prey he had caught, which he hopped over and nudged towards her.

Was he… offering her his kill? He watched her expectantly and nudged it again, then walked backwards a few steps and lay on his chest. She walked over and, when he didn't object, held the carcass down to tear off some of the remaining meat. He had already taken the good bits, but there was still enough left to sate her, and it was nice to not need to hunt for a change.

While she ate, he just watched her; not staring at her as if a prey to hunt down, rather as she might watch trees swaying in the wind. As she gripped a bone in her teeth to pull it free, she decided she didn't mind him. He smelled nice, was interesting, and had given her food. It felt… nice, to be around him. Perhaps, that was worth a little discomfort.


The expression 'walls closing in' was something that Arthur had never understood – walls were static barriers, they maintained an exact distance. However, a week of silence and solitude was beginning to instil a sense of claustrophobia he couldn't deny, not after he had checked the air filter and quality three times within the same hour.

He had exhausted his coping mechanisms. Extending the elevator up and sitting on the edge to listen to it break the waves – something he never would have previously considered – had helped a little, a taste of unpredictability and randomness, but even that was quickly becoming monotonous. How strange, that while he strove to bring order to his life, he was dependent on some level of chaos. That might be something he needed to consider in his designs, but he wasn't sure how. Or perhaps, with the new instincts and architecture, he wouldn't be as affected.

He kicked his bare feet in the water, flicking his hair out of his eyes to watch the little eddies. Humanity was a product of evolution, survival of the fittest. They had instincts and desires beneficial to survival and reproduction, but in the complexities of the modern world, such survival mechanisms were more often detrimental than not. Thankfully he considered himself immune to most of them, but he could recognise the desire for companionship and affection. Good instincts, in themselves, ones he wanted to persist in all new life… with some checks to ensure they couldn't go too far, and thus would never have negative connotations associated with them.

Bored of the waves, he stood and rode the elevator back down to the lab, listening to the water rush into the void left above. Maybe a window would be nice, to watch the descent… Fifty years ago such a change would have been difficult and laborious, but for anyone with a fabricator, a little technical knowledge, and an obscene amount of energy, such things were now trivial, whether for the best or not. He had solved that last part… but it hadn't changed things for the better, in his opinion, quite the opposite. Well, it wasn't as if molnir had caused the conflict; only facilitated it, providing a source of energy capable of powering all sorts of otherwise infeasible technology. Humanity had seemingly been on the verge of destruction for over a thousand years, from overpopulation to famine to war to disease. He wished they'd just get on with it already.

With saltwater drying around his ankles, he stepped through the bare entrance hall – it only existed to isolate the elevator from the lab – and opened the door at a gesture. To his surprise, among the terminals and various apparatus around the room stood a large black creature, one he was thoroughly familiar with but yet seemed surreal nonetheless. "You're up!" he exclaimed, taking a few steps towards her.

Seeing her like this, she was everything he had ever dreamed of. Her eyes tracked him as he moved, very large as necessary for a nocturnal creature but not so much as to be aesthetically displeasing; although the slit pupils and flat head triggered an instinctive caution, however much he knew she wasn't going to bite him. Her wings were held low, tensely hugging her sides, and her long ears twitched restlessly, reacting subconsciously. She stood stiffly, awkwardly, totally understandable given her unfamiliarity with the body. "Well," he said flatly, "I guess now I start having a lot of one-sided conversations." Language wasn't something they could really invent without being intrinsically familiar with what they had to work with.

He realised she was probably hungry – but he had barely taken a step when she growled at him, teeth bared and ears folding back. "You're not hungry?" he asked, and she awkwardly nodded. "Youare hungry?" he clarified, reminding himself of the folly of asking a negative, and she nodded again. She then precariously balanced on three paws to wave at a bare wall, her expression changing to light and curious. Her actions didn't really make sense – that was nothing new – but she was hungry and didn't want him to fabricate her something, an easy puzzle to solve. "You've never digested anything in that body before," he warned, "which is fine, but there might be some discomfort going straight to fish."

She snorted, loudly, almost seeming to choke on the expression. Odd, but not a disagreement. "Okay," he said with a shrug, already mentally running through his automation logic and determining the steps to get some fish and bypass the deconstructor. Not too difficult, but he'd set up a proper process for it later, one she could trigger herself.

"Why are you standing like that?" he asked, certain to keep his voice light and jovial as the question was meant, while he brought up a floating terminal and got to work flipping logic conditions. Her ears folded back again as she looked away – not agitation this time. Guilt? Probably not, it didn't fit in with what she was doing, hugging her wings closely to her sides. Her tense posture could be associated with her unfamiliarity and imbalance, but something didn't quite fit that explanation, and she clearly had decent control of her wings to be wrapping herself in them like that. Cold? No, that didn't fit her response… She caught him stealing another glance through the terminal, her discomfort visibly deepening, and she rose a little off her haunches and practically crossed her front legs.

In a moment of clarity, everything clicked into place, as absurd as it was. "You realise you're not human anymore, right?" he asked without taking his focus from the terminal, and the fuzzy black blur in the background growled. "It's not as if I can see anything," he said dryly, "your scales are too dark and it's all behind legs and wings anyway." She snorted at him. "Plus you haven't got anything that we haven't, you know, designed from scratch." That seemed to only make it worse, Helen tensing even more. Now out of logical arguments – he didn't think she'd appreciate him pointing out they were supposed to see each other like that – frustration suddenly welled up inside him. "Look, just eat your fish," he said in exasperation, sharply waving away the terminal as a panel slid open to reveal the two fish caught by the hunter drones.

He left her to figure out how to get them and stalked over to his chair, dropping into it and pulling up multiple terminals, fingers dancing furiously across them. He understood why modesty existed, why it was necessary, but at the same time this bothered him in ways he couldn't describe just yet.

It didn't take him long to finish what he was doing, guiding the newly fabricated devices into place just as Helen finished her meal. "Through here," he said, standing and walking into the next room where he'd set things up, as there was more space. Then he realised how he had sounded. "I didn't mean to sound sharp," he clarified – that had sounded sharp as well! It was these short sentences, maybe, but his thoughts were too busy to properly filter his words. She couldn't even respond, depriving him of their easy back and forth to smooth over their many misunderstandings.

Whatever she thought of him, she followed with slow, shuffling steps, deliberately moving each paw one by one, until she stood just inside the room. Rather than draw out any further awkward one-sided conversation, Arthur immediately summoned a pointer and marked her with it, linking it to the little program he'd thrown together.

A pale replica of her flickered to life in the centre of the room, near enough instantly matching her every movement. "Oh, hang on, let me lock the rotation," Arthur mumbled, bringing up a terminal to quickly make the changes. "See," he said flatly while he worked, "nothing visible at all." She took a pretty close look at her own backside in the minute it took to stop the hologram turning with her, which then allowed her to walk around it and see how she looked from all sides. It gradually seemed to help, because although she still moved awkwardly, she seemed a little more comfortable about it. He decided not to mention that scent would probably be more significant than sight anyway, predicting a few poor reactions.

While she was inspecting herself, he watched her, how she moved and reacted. The little flicks of her long ears against her smooth head and neck, how she placed her paws and held her wings, how she was conscious of her long tail, trying not to swing it around. He could feel every minute of his toils all working together in concert, a symphony of design and detail literally walking around the room as he watched.

On top of their short interaction, it all began to weigh on his mind remarkably quickly, thousands of details suddenly forcing themselves to his attention. She was still admiring herself when it abruptly became too much, and he forced himself to avert his gaze. "I need to leave you to it," he said quietly, vaguely gesturing to the next room, and Helen glanced at him with a nod.

He slipped past her and back into the main lab, where he hesitated by his workstation before moving on to his quarters with a hand to his head, pressed to his eye. He needed darkness and quiet, to let his mind catch up with everything – her reactions were burning a hole in his head, the memories stacked high and waiting to be processed and catalogued so that he could recognise and understand them later; even with so much of it being by his design, witnessing it was something else entirely. He also needed to figure out why he'd been so annoyed by her behaviour, what specifically he had taken offence to, and whether there was any merit to his dislike of it. He needed to understand her; but more than that, he needed to understand himself.


The soft bedding and near silence of the room made for a very peaceful waking, and Helen savoured the moment between dream and reality for long, indeterminate moments before eventually cracking an eye.

She did miss waking to Arthur slumbering beside her, his warm and comfortable presence, and wondered what it would be like when they left this world of technology and conveniences. Would she still flinch at his every touch, her skin crawling and overwhelmed by the slightest sensation? Not that she had disliked his touch, just that it was often too much to bear, especially when he rolled over in the night and brushed against her back or something.

This new body was different. Touch was dulled by her thick hide, though not as much as she had been expecting, and these soft sheets felt wonderful to rub against. But while she did not miss the sensitivity of her skin, she was still trying to figure out how exactly to relax in this foreign body. Every which way she tried to lie there was something jutting out, if not her sturdy limbs then the stiff little fins she seemed to be covered in, and while her tail was more or less out of the way it almost seemed to have a mind of its own.

A yawn cracked her hinged jaw as it spread her mouth wide, long tongue curling behind the teeth that slid from her gums. She smacked what passed for lips in this body and blearily looked around before working her way to the floor, taking her time to figure out how to remain standing in the process without tipping forwards and landing on her face. She liked to think she even managed some degree of elegance; at least, she was the most elegant specimen of her kind, which had to count for something.

Spurred by an undeniably good mood, she awkwardly waved a paw to open the door and padded out of the room for something to do. The fish she'd eaten before going to sleep were still sitting uncomfortably, but it was so laughably insignificant compared to the ever-present pains of her original body that she had no trouble ignoring it. Discomfort… She would have killed to feel mere discomfort, before this…

A smell distracted her, and she followed it out of curiosity. Seawater, an intense concoction of salt and sea life, far stronger than what Arthur had been walking around the previous day, seemed to emanate through the facility; not just from the air circulated through the vents. Somehow, she could vaguely tell what direction it was coming from, in the same way she could sound, and soon found herself staring at a door that hadn't existed before she'd gone to sleep.

The strong scents were coming from here, she was certain of it. Not that she could smell anything through the door, it was an airtight seal, but when it was last open it had let these scents through and they were persisting. Curious, she shuffled her paws so that she could lift one without unbalancing herself, leaning back to wave…

The minute hiss of the door sliding aside was immediately lost in the sheer space beyond it, the large room almost generating sound just by being so big. That was an illusion, of course, it was just echoing the quiet trickle of water and Arthur's deep breaths while he worked on something, but it was very different to what she was used to; she couldn't remember when she'd last been outside.

He glanced over his shoulder at her as she entered, sweat glistening on his bare back where he crouched in a depression in the floor to work on something. "Hoped I'd have this finished by the time you were up," he said sheepishly, his voice still distorted by her strong hearing almost beyond comprehension. "You know how it is. The seal didn't quite take," he gestured to the far wall which seemed to be actual rock, "but I figured I'd just pump it out and make a feature of it, so then I had to make a reservoir and… You get the idea." He took a deep breath and slumped onto his backside, resting his elbows on his knees. "Got enough done for now I guess. Anyway, figured you'd like somewhere to stretch your legs."

Stretch her legs? It wasn't as if she didn't have room, they had built these facilities with their new bodies in mind. But, taking a closer look, this room was different, and much larger. She wouldn't be flying in it, but she might just about have room to run, once she got that far. The rough wall at the far end was indeed rock, rivulets of water trickling between and over short outcrops, and as she ventured forwards she found that much of the floor was rock as well, hidden by a trick of the light. Rough and very uneven, host to scattered pools of seawater, it promised to be very difficult to walk on, even if she could bear to do so with her sensitive paws…

Her eyes widened as she pressed a paw onto the new surface, and she hurriedly followed with the other three, that stupid purr rumbling from her throat. She felt her body relax almost instantly, though she resisted the urge to lie down, instead shuffling around eagerly and enjoying the sensation of solid ground; something about the artificial floor felt stressful, as if it was unstable, and she was only noticing now that there was an alternative.

"You look… enthusiastic," Arthur said slowly, his voice rife with uncertainty.

She paused to look at him. She remembered how to talk, the required movements, but thinking about it made her jaw ache, feeling as if it should be able to move in ways it could not. She was no longer capable of talking, and she barely had enough control of her legs to walk, let alone type or anything; they were legs, all four of them, with all the awkwardness that implied.

Despite having recently been asleep, a wave of fatigue flooded through her, staggering her, and she pressed her eyes closed as they spasmed. "This is expected," Arthur hurriedly reassured her, rushing to her side and providing paltry but comforting support with a hand under her shoulder. "You have a lot of processing to do, new inputs and outputs. It'll get better…" He trailed off, perhaps wanting to say something but unable to find the words. "Just take it easy for a bit."

She nodded, wincing as it made her head spin. Though she already felt stressed at the mere thought of walking back to her room, cracking an eye to glare at the smooth floor beyond the nice comforting rock…

Well, they were going to be sleeping out in the wild eventually, so she might as well get used to it now. She lowered herself to the ground and was already lightly dozing by the time her head rested on her paws.