Hattie ate her breakfast, and struggled to clear her mind. Once she cleared her plate, she washed up the dishes she’d used, and sat back down at the table. 

“Monte, this has gotten out of hand.”

[It has,] Monte said, [I think we should focus on figuring out how to control your feral state, even though Dawson’s not here now. That’s the thing most likely to get you in trouble now.]

“That is a good idea. Without your help…” Hattie shuddered, “There would be blood on my hands. Let me have a go…”

Hattie stared at the table, and focused on her bond with Monte. She delved past their communication channels, in an attempt to find the well that was the source of them sharing each other’s abilities. 

It bubbled up again, the urges that weren’t hers. Hattie frowned. The urges were hers, sort of, but taken to an extreme, and irrational approach. Hattie’s frown grew deeper, and her forehead wrinkled.

An animal’s instincts were powerful, but animals, monsters, and hybrids all had the potential to act with intelligence as well. Hattie ought to be able to reign these wild impulses, and if they refused, she’d squash them into place.

[Hey,] Hattie yelled at the bond, [I don’t appreciate being taken advantage of. If those instincts are meant to protect me, I ought to be able to have a handle on them! I can't just go snapping at people because they’ve upset me!]

Of course, there was no response. The bond was a piece of magic, after all. Hattie worked on getting a feel for what the instincts were. The impressions of each came down to several things. But they were all woven together, like a tangled ball of string.

Hattie didn’t much like the feel of some of them. The desire to protect was well and good, but at the cost of losing rationality, moving for the kill when a peaceful resolution was at hand? That propensity to violence was too easy to default to, the state was too extreme.

But they deserve it, something in Hattie whispered, anything that threatens you needs to be eradicated. 

[Hattie?] 

Hattie’s attention snapped away from the bond.

“Yes?”

[You were growing fangs again.]

“Oh dear. Let me try again, but don’t talk to me unless I start to get aggressive.”

[Okay. Good luck.]

Hattie dived back into the connection, and found it easier to find what she was looking for this time. The instincts were still all muddled together, a web of unadulterated base desires, but Hattie wanted to try separating them.

Hattie followed each thread and untangled the knot. Bundles of impulses before her, she criticized each one, and snipped off the bits that pushed her to violence. The heightened senses would remain, but Hattie could choose how to react. At least, she hoped that was what she had accomplished.

[I hope I’ve done this right…Ah well.]

Hattie resurfaced. The sun had moved along a lot. A rumble echoed from Hattie’s stomach. Was it past noon already?

“Monte,” Hattie said, “Make me feel distressed. I want to see how the instincts react, since I’ve tinkered with them.”

Monte sent her a sensation of panic so strong, her stomach flipped. 

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Oh my,” Hattie clenched her hands. Her teeth changed, and she felt her nails curling into claws, a step further from before. The smells of the wooden table and room sharpened, and she could taste the omelet she’d eaten earlier as if she had a bite of it in her mouth.  Her head remained clear, though her heart screamed at her, go! It was a strange dichotomy of self, as both sides of her responded in a different, powerful way.

Nausea rippled through her.

“I’m not about to bite anyone’s head off, Monte, but this is making me feel rather sick,” Hattie closed her eyes as she continued to sort out the dual reactions, “As long as I avoid mind altering stimulants, I can keep a handle on it. You can stop now.”

Monte’s distress signal vanished, and with it, Hattie returned to a normal state, inside and out.

“We should still have Headmaster Dawson take a look, to make sure we’re okay,” Hattie let out a whoosh of air, “Monte, are feeling alright? Those emotions were quite strong, like you were really feeling that way, not pretending.”

Monte took a moment to respond. [It was how I felt when I thought you might not come back.]

“Oh Monte,” Hattie got up and hugged Monte, her neck resting on his back, “I’m so sorry. I promise I’ll do my best to keep this from happening again.”

[Thank you.] Monte said. 

Hattie held onto her friend a moment longer before releasing him, “Let’s scrounge up some lunch. I’m hungry again.”

Hattie rummaged around Dawson’s kitchen and made another omelet, much bigger than the one from breakfast. She split it with Monte, and they both enjoyed their meal.

“What do you think, Monte? Shall we track down Liobald today and let him know we can’t make dinner? Or should we just apologize tomorrow?” 

[It would probably be less upsetting if you tell him today. I can track him, he hasn’t been gone so long.]

“Let’s go, then, after I clean up.” 

Outside, Hattie made sure the front door was firmly closed behind her. The sun was still high up in the sky, and the sunshine warmed Hattie back as Monte navigated the streets. The heat relieved some of the strain on her back muscles, but holding onto Monte taxed her legs and arms, even when his pace was slow, and his gait gentle.

The areas grew from prosperous and clean to scummy as they trekked through Derington. If it were just Hattie walking down the streets, with her rumpled clothes and raggedness, she would have fit in. 

Monte stopped in front of a building, and Hattie took her time dismounting. 

“Ooof,” she said, and rubbed her tired arm.

Hattie knocked on the door. 

Nobody answered. Hattie and Monte trailed to the back of the building, where there was another door.

[Liobald didn’t enter through here, though.] Monte said.

[It can’t hurt to try it.]

Hattie reached for the handle. The door opened outwards, and Hattie followed Monte through the rickety building, to a large open room.

!!!CRASH BANG BOOM!!!

Hattie’s hair stuck up at every angle, a disheveled mess. Soot marked her face, and Monte’s gold fur wasn’t gold.

[This was a bad idea. I’m sorry Hattie.]

[No, we didn’t think. Of course Liobald would be...working.] Hattie clutched her chest and coughed, [Ack, I feel so weak, Monte. At least there won’t be a dinner date now.]

[I’m not so sure about that,] Monte said.

Liobald approached them, and gave Hattie a hand up, “I’d like to say I’m surprised to see you, MIss Hattie, but our brief acquaintance has me thinking I shouldn’t make any guesses about what you’ll do.”

“Hello Liobald,” Hattie let out a wheeze of a laugh, “I came to thank you again for your offer of dinner, but I realized I couldn't possibly attend. I apologize for that, and for,” Hattie paused, trying not to stare at the shady going-ons she was in the midst of, “interrupting your business here.”

Liobald raised an eyebrow, “Does this have to do with my profession?”

Hattie closed her eyes for a moment.

“Yes.”

“Ah,” Liobald pushed his hands into his pockets, “I had no ill intent towards you. You fascinated me, and I wanted to learn more about you, without digging up information on you as if you were a...competitor. I thought dinner would be a respectable way to do so.”

Hattie glanced at Monte, [He really is nice. Can’t we go just this once? Can’t this be my moment of youthful irrationality?]

Monte sighed through their bond, [Hattie, I’m still suspicious, but if you really want to, fine. But if things don’t work out, I’m never letting you get away with youthful irrationality again.]

[That’s fair.]

“Forget about what this old lady said before,” Hattie said, “I’d love to have dinner with you.”

Liobald’s look of surprise was replaced by an amused smile. As he’d said, he found her unpredictable.

“It would be my pleasure to dine with you then, Miss Hattie.”