Sarah looked up from her preening as she heard a gentle buzz at the door to the balcony just off her room. It annoyed her slightly to be interrupted; preening was one of those pleasantly absorbing tasks she could get contemplatively lost in, like brushing her hair had been when she'd had hands. But it wasn't absolutely necessary - she'd do it again in the morning anyway, so that her feathers would be all nice and straightened for the day. And she did want the opportunity to talk with her mother a little more often; she was essentially over the unpleasantness of her parents' paranoia, but they had yet to fully reestablish their relationship. She walked over to the door and cracked it open long enough for several of her mother to come inside, shivering a little at the feeling of the cool fall-evening air on her bare skin.
"Hi, Mom," she said, perching hunkered down on the headboard of her bed. "What's up?"
"Hello, Sarah," the warm, harmonic voice of her mother replied. The harpy found it fascinating to watch; she could peer at any one of the dozen bee-women and see the same speech and motions of conversation being performed, but in a myriad of very slightly different ways - all one, and yet somehow also just a little individual. And they were only a handful, too; Sarah hadn't ever asked, but judging by the size of the hive now occupying one whole corner of the balcony, there were probably close to a hundred of her mother!
"I just came to see how you're doing," her mom continued. "How are you feeling lately?"
Sarah smiled. "I'm feeling fine, thanks. Just fine."
"You do sound fine." There was the sound of a smile in her mother's voice, and she could see it reflected on their faces. "It seems like you're adjusting pretty well, as far as your father and I can tell. How do you feel about that, sweetie?"
Sarah thought for a moment, then shrugged. "I guess you could say I like it," she said. "It's not something I'd ever have thought I'd be okay with, but..." She chuckled. "I guess what I had to do was let go of the human me. Drop out of the nest. Now that I'm letting me be harpy me...yeah. I like this."
Her mother bobbed in a nodding gesture. Over the past couple weeks, Sarah had learned to read these motions; it was much easier than trying to watch one of the inch-tall figures for human body language through the whole conversation. "I understand," she said. "Your father and I have had some of the same troubles trying to adjust to the new nature of our relationship, but we're making progress. You're a bit of an inspiration to us in that regard."
Sarah smiled. "Thanks."
"How's school? Have you thought about getting back into cheerleading?"
The harpy shrugged. "School's okay, I guess," she said. It wasn't something she enjoyed all that much, but it didn't give her too much trouble. She would've been happier if more of her friends were there, but the only member of her old circle that she knew had changed was Tiffany, and they weren't exactly on good terms right now. Still, at least the other girls there could relate to her on some level or other...though it was a little weird talking with former boys, like Jon or that cat-girl this morning. She thought for a moment, then sighed. "But," she said, "cheerleading...I dunno."
"I'm sure they'd be happy to have you," her mother said. "Your feathers are lovely, you know. I'm sure they could find a way to use that."
Sarah beamed with pride, a little more strongly than she realized. She'd always liked to be told that she looked nice, and a complement to her rainbow plumage was a pleasure still new to her, one that resonated with both the teenage girl part of her and the harpy part of her. But she thought about it for a minute and shrugged. "It's...I dunno," she said. "Have you ever been so caught up in something that you don't realize how much it's taking out of you?"
Her mom thought that over. "Yes, I suppose I have," she said.
Sarah nodded. "It's kinda like that. I mean, I like the thing, I enjoy doing the routines and the exercise and all that. But I guess I forgot how much work it is until I had a break from it. Practice at home, and rehearsals, and having to follow the team to away games... Now I think about going back to that and I guess I kinda want to hang onto all the free time I suddenly have."
"I suppose that's understandable," her mother replied. "But don't be too hasty about this, dear. You're right, it's work - but then, you'd be abandoning all that work that you've put into it."
"Yeah, I guess," Sarah said. "I dunno...I'll think about it."
Her mother nodded. "Good girl. By the way...you have a lovely singing voice, you know that?"
Sarah smiled. "Thanks, Mom."
Erica alternated between looking up at the moon and ahead at Nikki. They were making good time to wherever it was they were going; she didn't know about Sam, but the only reason she was able to keep up with the little skunk-girl at all was by watching her duck under, over, or around all the obstacles she wouldn't have spotted herself. Like a rhythm game, she thought. See the cues and match them at the right time. It wasn't perfect - for one thing, her daughter was much better at squeezing through narrow spaces between heavy brush or under branches, being smaller - but it did keep them going much faster than they would've if she'd been leading the way.
She looked back up at the moon. It was so big tonight...it felt wild and untamed, and a bit frightening. It almost felt like...like they were stepping into Somewhere Else. Maybe. She didn't know. She wished Nikki had given them more of a clue about where they were going and why, but she was far enough ahead that they couldn't really discuss it on the way. Erica briefly toyed with the idea of trying that sharp-voiced ultimatum thing her mother had used to do to get her to stop, but she didn't know Nikki's middle name; it would never carry the same weight if it wasn't her full name. Just one of those things she'd have to learn as a mother...
...good God, did she really just think that?
