Karyn regarded the surly harpy warily. "Have you thought about what you're going to do?" She cringed inwardly; that had come off as a lot more prying than she'd meant it to.
Sarah shook her head, her long blonde hair draping messily over her shoulders. "I don't know what I can do. Unless I suddenly grow my arms back, I'm going to need someone to help me with stuff, unless I want to go around naked and eat my food raw or something. And since my dad is stuck in one spot and my mom is a swarm of bees, that rules them out for assistants. I know you want me out of your house and all, but I just don't know where else to go."
Karyn winced. That wasn't what she'd intended to convey, but she did have to admit that she'd felt like that more than once in the past couple days. "No," she said, "it's...it's okay. I don't mind you staying with us. And...even if I did, we couldn't just rush you out without some place for you to go."
Sarah half-smiled. "Well, that's nice of you to say, anyway. I just wish I knew what to do about the house, though. I love this place, but there's no way Mom and Dad can handle taking care of it..."
Karyn nodded, one tentacle clasped to her chin in a "thinking" pose. "It is a nice house. Is there someone you know who could use a place to stay? You could probably get someone to take care of it, for room and board..."
The harpy shrugged. "I dunno. I might find a relative looking for a place, but I have no idea if any of them would be okay sharing the place with Mom and Dad...even I'd probably freak them out. I guess it's as good a place as any to start, though..."
"Why we inna woods?" Zoe asked. The slime-mold girl had reached the stature of about an eight-year-old over the course of the morning, but her mental re-development was lagging a bit behind. She wasn't acting quite like a child, though; more like a person with chunks of knowledge or development temporarily missing, returning as her cells gradually made their way back to her. Still, at least she could talk.
Jon smiled at her younger sister. "You're coming back together, remember?" she replied. "You started to do your fruiting thing and we had to get you out in the woods for it."
"Mmm," the slime-girl responded. "I growing back?"
Jon nodded. "Yep. But you need a log like this to do it, so you need to stay here."
Zoe smiled. "I stay here, Jon. Feels good!"
Jon smiled. "Good girl." She turned slid back toward the camp, sighing. It wasn't any fault of Zoe's, but keeping tabs on someone who was temporarily deprived of long-term memory was a bit exasperating. Were they going to have to go through this every time? She hoped not.
At the very least, maybe they could get an imitation rotting log in the basement or something - she did not want to have to go camping every month. There was precious little to do out here - it was pretty much talk to Zoe or talk to Michael. Talking to Zoe was rather pointless right now, and while Michael was a much more capable conversationalist, they'd pretty much talked over every point of interest in the past couple of days.
Still, it was better than just sitting around. Jon looked towards the tents to see what the dinosaur-girl was up to. She was sitting by the firepit, doing...what was she doing?
Whatever it was, she jolted to a straight sitting-up position as soon as she heard Jon coming. The slug-girl slithered into camp and looked her camping companion over.
Michael tried rather unsuccessfully to stifle a blush. "I'm, uh, gonna go hunt something for dinner," she said, sprinting away. Jon chuckled to herself. With Michael's slightly dazed expression and her makeshift top slightly off-kilter over one breast, it wasn't hard to figure out what she'd been doing. It was a little freaky that she'd been copping a feel on herself right out in the open, but she'd noticed that Michael did many things half out of instinct; her semi-feral appearance wasn't just coincidence, it seemed.
Jon sat down (or rather, coiled herself on top of her slug half,) wondering if she could get in an afternoon nap, but she found her mind drifting back to Michael, and found herself wondering why she hadn't done anything of the sort. She'd never been a compulsive self-stimulator as a boy, but for the past three-plus weeks, she'd been pretty much rigidly mechanistic when taking care of herself, never once going beyond the bounds of a health-class instructional video.
A large part of it, she supposed, was that she didn't really internalize this form. The slug-girl body was a sort of temporary housing for Jon's mind, but it wasn't actually her - and if it wasn't really her body, then it was hands-off, right? And besides, it was temporary, anyway. Another five months and she'd go right back to being a human male. Maybe that was another factor: she had the stone to count on, whereas everyone else saw this as probably permanent.
But, she had to admit, part of it was probably fear of what she'd find. Not that she thought it would necessarily be gross or disgusting to experience female physical sensations - what with going to the bathroom as a girl and lugging two independently-mobile flesh lumps around with her, she didn't have a choice in that anyway.
But...she really did want to go back to being a guy, and thus far she'd experienced nothing that would really stick with her on a deeper level, nothing that could keep things from going back to the way things had always been. Jon didn't know what she'd find if she tried it, but it might very well be a point of no return, something that she couldn't just forget or dismiss. And...she just didn't want that complication.
She looked down at the breasts hanging from her chest. "Nah," she whispered. She turned and went into the tent - maybe if she was lucky, she'd get some shuteye.
After a morning of fuming about the indignity of having to wear a dress, Biff, or Becka as she was now being called by the grownups, was just finishing her lunch. It bothered her that she couldn't even prepare her own meals anymore - the kitchen counter came up just past her shoulders, and there was no way she'd be able to make a sandwich without smearing her elbows in it. So Mrs. Madison had made her some instant ramen - even that was a little disappointing, as half a bowl filled her up completely where it had left room for other stuff before.
She thought about trying to talk to Mikey, but the older girl was spaced out on the couch, doing...Becka didn't even know what she was doing; it looked like she was just sitting there. Besides, what would they have to talk about? She went up to her new room instead. She had just sat down on the bed to fume some more when a voice said "at last! Thank goodness I've found you!"
Surprised and curious, Becka looked in the direction of the voice. Standing on the desk was...
"You're a doll!" Becka gasped. And indeed, the speaker was, or at least seemed to be. She was no more than six inches tall, a tiny creature in the shape of a girl in her early teens, in a simple blue dress with clean white highlights along the hem and seams. Her hair was long and deep blue, done up in what a normal girl might have recognized as a French braid. Becka didn't really know from dolls, but the size seemed like a giveaway.
"I am Trident," the doll said. "I am to be your guardian and mentor, O-"
Becka frowned. "I don't wanna doll!" she said. "I don't wanna be a girl at all, and I really don't wanna doll!"
Trident sighed. "I know your situation is not as you wish," she said, "but if you would just hear me out, O-"
Becka scowled. "Nuh-uh. No dolls."
Now it was Trident's turn to scowl. "Listen, fool!" she snapped, her voice suddenly filling the room. "You're going to be the magical-girl character here, and I'm going to be your tutor! That is my purpose for being! And that's final!"
Becka still didn't like the idea, but the doll's sudden snap had made an impact on her, and she didn't feel quite so much like arguing anymore. And while "magical girl" wasn't even remotely what she wanted for a career choice, well...at least maybe she could do something. It'd certainly be better than just sitting around doing nothing.
While she was pondering this, the tiny doll-girl took a running leap and landed on her shoulder. She placed her palms together on Becka's chest, and suddenly the little girl felt a jolt of energy. Trident stood up on Becka's shoulder and pointed toward the mirror next on the far wall. Becka turned to look.
The first thing she noticed was that her hair was now powder-blue and had done itself into a ponytail, with two long locks hanging down in front of her ears. After this, she noticed something else: a strange symbol traced on her chest, just under her collarbone. It was glowing blue, but as she watched, it faded away to an ordinary-looking tattoo, then vanished entirely. She gaped. What had she gotten herself into?
Trident smiled triumphantly. "Well, then!" she said. "Now that your abilities have been awakened, let's choose a totem for you."
