The following day began with a flurry of activity. The group of confined humans was visited by the College's Lead Physician, a short-tempered wombat named Pensive-Pace, who informed them that they were no longer to be confined. They would be escorted to more appropriate long-term lodgings, and be allowed to come and go as they pleased. The only exception to this was Song, though only because she would require special accommodations that had not yet been constructed. Apparently the amphibian population of Darksoil was rather small, and consisted primarily of dry-skinned toads and newts, so providing a fully featured living space for an aquatic salamander of her size would not be a simple task.

However, their freedom would come with a rather large caveat. They would be closely monitored at all times while outside of the small section of campus containing their rooms, and would not be permitted to leave the city. As best Ink-Talon could tell, this seemed to be the source of the Physician's sour mood, as its judgement of the former humans as not being a danger to public health apparently clashed with someone else's judgement of them as a potential danger to public safety. It seemed that this compromise didn't sit well with either of them.

"I appreciate the upgrade, but could you please let us in on just what has so many of you treating us like criminals?" Maggie was quick to cut to the chase, asking the question that had been on all of their minds in one form or another. "I promise that being aware of our crimes won't magically make us want to commit more crimes."

"It is rather simple, and rather unfortunate." Pensive-Pace's stiff demeanor did not change as they explained. "The first reports of those with your condition we received came along with the reports of a death. One of our own Scholars approached a close friend who was behaving erratically and offered aid. They were attacked and fatally wounded for their efforts, and the attacker has been evading Seekers sent to retrieve them ever since."

"Oh..." A horrified silence fell over the group as many of their worst suspicions were confirmed. This seemed to bolster the Physician's confidence, however, as the reaction was just more confirmation that their assessment was correct.

"As you can see, that created a far more violent impression of your affliction than was likely warranted. As I was appointed by Consensus to determine the risks your condition presents to others and take relevant action, it is within my authority to release you from quarantine and prescribe better treatment, but I can do nothing about other restrictions. The suspicions of your motives and morals as individuals held by the Lead Guardian is not a matter of medicine."

"But we're good people!" The black-furred kit piped up in protest, prompting Quiet-Dream to gently prod them with a forepaw. "Sorry."

"Guardian Golden-Streak will escort you to your lodgings," Pensive-Pace grunted, their facade of professionalism unable to hide their amusement at the kit's outburst. "And Scribe Swift-Paw is free to go, of course. I thank you for your patience and testimonial."

"If you will allow it, I would like to remain here with Song," Swift-Paw chattered.

"Of course, that is your prerogative."

"You really don't have to," Song objected, swishing her tail across the surface of the bath in clear discomfort. "I know you cared about them, but-"

"As the Lead Physician just said, this is my choice, and I did not accompany you all this way to leave you at the first opportunity." The raccoon stood its ground.

"...Okay." Ink-Talon couldn't tell if the salamander was uneasy, angry, or resigned, but she certainly didn't feel good about it.

"If you have any further needs, inform it and it will direct you to whomever can best fulfill them. I will do everything in my power to help you find comfort in your recoveries."

'Recoveries.' Right. Ink-Talon fluffed up at the term, barely able to keep the thought to himself. We're an 'affliction.' Something detrimental imposed onto healthy people. Something to be 'treated.' For them to 'recover', we'd have to be removed, and... He shuddered at the clear outcome. ...And erased. If they could, would they- It was his turn to receive a gentle prodding, as the recently awakened kit had scampered over to bump its head into his wing.

"We're leaving!" it exclaimed, pointing urgently at the door where the rest of the group was filing out. He'd gotten lost in thought.

"Right, thanks." A few flaps of his wings were all it took for him to catch up, and the kit was right behind him, energetically running up and down the whole group rather than sticking to any one person. He touched down next to Quiet-Dream, easily avoiding stumbling or bumping into anyone despite the tight quarters. "Doing better this morning?"

"Not really," the squirrel flicked his tail with a mixture of frustration and exhaustion. "Yesterday was... a lot. Even by 'woke up as a squirrel' standards. It's hard to work on myself when I keep ending up with more and more that needs worked on."

"Try and focus on the upsides." Ink-Talon nudged him with a wing, keeping the conversation between the two of them. "Being clean must feel better, right?"

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Quiet-Dream shot him a dirty look, making it plainly clear that the embarrassment and damage to his ego outweighed the upside.

"Okay, but how about the kit? It being more independent must be... it must simplify things." He stumbled a bit as a natural turn of phrase failed to come to him. Something about weight and shoulders? It never failed to be jarring whenever that happened, a frequent reminder that he was ever so slightly not himself.

"Actually... about that. Could you can look after her today? The problem with all that independence is the never-ending stream of questions that she started asking along with it. They're..." The squirrel sighed. "They're not the kinds of questions I want to be dwelling on, and if the two kits' development continue in the same pattern it has been, then her sibling will be gaining self-awareness sometime in the next day or so as well, so..."

"You need a break before that happens." Ink-Talon nodded before pausing, having realized something. "Wait, when did you start gendering the kit?"

"When she started doing it herself. It doesn't exactly match her physically, but I'd be a massive hypocrite if I questioned that. I'm not entirely sure she knows what it means, though."

"I see." It was an odd idea. The animals of this society didn't seem to really deal with gender as a concept, but them and the other former humans certainly did. It came across in their thoughts and expressions, pronouns translated to meanings and Understood as pronouns. None of the natives had ever commented on it, and they certainly liked to comment on oddities like that, so he had simply assumed the meaning didn't carry over for lack of context. And yet the kit had picked up on it. Perhaps spending the day with her would prove to be more interesting than he first thought...

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She had picked the name Black-Leap. It was a good name, since she was dark and liked to jump. Maybe she would pick a different one later? But right now it was good. Also right now was moving into a new nest. Mother Quiet-Dream was anxious and stressed, unsure of what to do. But then again, he was always unsure. Her previous Mother might have been more sure of things? Her memories were unclear that far back. It was hard to recall more than her Mother leaving, and then returning... "different." Only recently could she Understand that he was "different" because he was Someone Else. But he was still her Mother. He made that intent clear.

Ink-Talon was far more sure of things. He wanted Mother to rest, and agreed to care for Black-Leap that day. Mother Quiet-Dream had been hesitant to ask him, but then again, he was always hesitant. He always considered himself last. And now she and Ink-Talon were alone together, inspecting the room he was to use for his nest. Mother and her sibling were nearby, settling in to a nest better suited to their sizes and needs.

The room was brightly lit, thanks to a window in the ceiling large enough for Ink-Talon to fly through. A string could be pulled to close it, sliding a wooden door over it. It was too heavy for Black-Leap to move, but she found she could climb it if she tried. Ink-Talon was quick to ask her not to. In one corner of the room, a raised wooden frame contained a pile of soft blankets, perfect for nesting. One side of the frame was raised slightly higher, ideal for perching. Ink-Talon slept better when he could perch. In the opposite corner, a hatch in the floor covered a water pipe like the ones in the room they had left, for anything they'd need water for. Ink-Talon finished placing his papers and ink bottles on a nearby shelf before finally turning his attention to her in full.

"Well then. I guess we can properly say 'hello' now, right?" The crow crouched down, gesturing to Black-Leap with a wing.

"Hello!" the kit peeped. "Thanks for helping."

"Helping?" He cocked his head to the side, caught off-guard by her directness. "With what?"

"Everything! You're always helping!"

Ink-Talon looked like he was about to argue, but stopped himself, shaking his head.

"We all have to help each other. It's how we survive."

"I'm glad we survived, then." Black-Leap chirped enthusiastically before suddenly becoming very still. Something had occurred to her, and she was forced to consider it.

"Is something wrong?"

"Are you my Parent?" The kit fixed her gaze on Ink-Talon with an intense look of confusion, and the crow froze in turn.

"...Why do you ask?" he croaked. It was obvious that he knew exactly why she had asked.

"You were when you were Someone Else. But now you're not?" Black-Leap shut her eyes, struggling to sort through the facts. "We aren't a family anymore. But you're always helping? Nesting with us away from Mother when he is struggling? But you're alone. And Mother is alone." She began to tremble, overwhelmed by the complexity of it all.

"Hey, come here," Ink-Talon squawked as he swept the kit towards himself with a wing, drawing her into an awkward embrace. "Quiet-Dream is my friend, and friends take care of each other. That's all there is to it. I don't think I can be a proper parent to you, but I'd still like to be a friend."

"Are friends a kind of family?" Black-Leap murmured, still shaking as her thoughts and heart gradually began to slow back down.

"It depends on what you think a family is, I guess?"

"This is... confusing."

"Is that's what's bothering you?" Ink-Talon asked, genuinely concerned. "You seem really upset, but I can't be sure unless you tell me."

This was a better question. Something else for her to focus on. What was confusing about them? Why was she struggling? Find the problems. Ignore the lack of answers. Stay simple. Eventually, something surfaced.

"You and Mother and Maggie are different. And I am too? But a different different than you. I'm not..." Expressions failed her. She just about got the idea across, but she couldn't quite land on it herself.

"I think I know what you're getting at, let's see if I'm getting this right." Ink-Talon tapped his beak on the ground as he concentrated. "Humans are strange in this world, and you learned how to think and act from watching us, and so you think and act strangely compared to other animals. But you also don't know what humans are, or why we're like this. So, maybe you can't quite relate to us, either? Like you're in between?"

"Maybe." Black-Leap closed her eyes again, all the energy she spent bounding about that morning having caught up with her, and Ink-Talon's warm wing-hug making for an extremely enticing place to nap. Existential questions were too much to think about right now.

"I could tell you about us, if you'd like," Ink-Talon croaked. "Try and help you figure things out. After your nap, of course."

"Thanks, Friend." Black-Leap could feel the crow shift a bit as she expressed her thanks. Something about it must have been strange. She was strange. Maybe she'd always be strange.

Maybe she was okay with that.