(Untitled)

[cryptogam]

The genet Stephen had captured that afternoon had become surprisingly attached to him in the short time of their acquaintance, and refused to stay behind in his hut when it came time for his weekly clinic shift. Currently, it was perched upon his shoulder, for all the world like a tame animal, and looked over his shoulder while he read over the

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[maybe_youll_die]

Wednesday didn't know what kind of animal it was that Dr. Maturin had on his shoulder, but she decided that she liked it. "Does it bite?" she asked him, appearing abruptly at his side after walking quietly across the room.

Unlike most other people, Wednesday hoped the answer was yes.

[cryptogam]

Stephen started slightly at Miss Addams' sudden appearance, but was not put out by it. "She did bite me when I first found her, but she seems to be calmer now," he said, pointing out the small half-circle of toothmarks on his hand. "She is a genet, a carnivore related to mongooses and civets."

[maybe_youll_die]

"That looks like it hurts," said Wednesday, studying the bite with great interest. "My cousin had a mongoose."

[cryptogam]

"Is that so?" Stephen said interestedly. "They are bold creatures, mongooses; I saw one in Bombay once, attacking a venomous snake. I have not seen any on the island, however, more's the pity."

[iwhinny4dragons]

It was happenstance that Young Sam was taking his moon rat, named Moon Rat, on a walk. Albeit it down the hallway. Sybil was taking a break from the kitchen and Young Sam had found a way to readily fill that time. Young Sam and Moon Rat seemed less concerned, and as they walked Sam would occasionally scoop the little animal up and carry him before setting him down again. He stopped in the door of the clinic to set it down again, and Sybil smiled when she caught sight of Dr. Maturin, and lifted a hand in greeting.

"Good afternoon, doctor."

[cryptogam]

"Why, good day, Lady Sybil," Stephen said, pleased to see his fellow reptile enthusiast. "And good day, young Sam. Your moon rat seems to be faring well."

The genet had pricked up its ears, and was looking at the small insectivore very intently. Stephen plucked the genet off his shoulder and held it firmly in his lap, so that it would not make a meal of young Sam's pet.

[iwhinny4dragons]

"He's on, a, walk," Sam said, emphasizing each word strongly, beaming up at Stephen.

"He's terribly easy to care for and gets along surprisingly well with the dragon. What is that you have there?" It looked vaguely like a weasel.

[cryptogam]

"It is a genet," Stephen said, holding it up so that both Sybil and Sam could see it, while keeping a firm grip upon its body. "A carnivore of the viverrid family, related to mongooses and civets. They are sometimes kept on board ship in the Mediterranean, to eat the rats."

[girl_f]

F sits quietly on the bed that is her new prison. This man, doctor, has an interest in her. She's not been obliging.

F isn't dying anymore, though. The humans give her things beside blood, demand she eats them, and if she doesn't, there's tubes and needles. She will only gag down the food at the urge of Claire or of Nick.

She stares, unblinking, at the doctor. What, she wonders, is he afraid of most in the world?

[cryptogam]

Once Death had asked him the same question - what was he afraid of? - and he had been unable to answer. Not because he did not know, but because his secrets had been locked away for so long that he could not express them.

He closed the file and met the girl's (if that was what she was) unblinking stare with one of his own. She had made no sound since he entered the room.

"Pray, can you speak?" he inquired.

[girl_f]

Yes. She can.

She doesn't though, not responding to his words with even a glance in his direction. F doesn't care to be studied.

[cryptogam]

Stephen was not aware of the girl's preferences; he could not even tell whether or not she was sentient. Nor could he determine whether her lack of response was due to refusal or to lack of understanding.

He let the genet scramble from his shoulder and curl up on the desk - still disinclined to leave, apparently - and approached the girl, or whatever she might be. She looked very young and very frail, and for some reason he was reminded of his friend Dil, the young girl who had guided him about Bombay, and who had been murdered for the silver bangles he had given her.

"My name is Dr. Maturin," he said, not unkindly. "I shall not harm you." Whether she might harm him was another matter - but it did not concern him.