ukan | 001.

[The first thing Lark does is follow his nose. He gets himself some food, enough to clear his mind, and then finds a quiet corner up on the deck where he can watch the universe drift by. He watches the network first, making cursory judgments of the people there. And then he turns the camera on himself.

He's not sure any of this is real, but it's always safest to pretend it is. If it's real to these people, it needs to be real to him.]

Monarchism depth doubtfully entrancing.

[He closes his eyes, no. Not right. Slow breath in: who am I?]

Sorry. My name is Lark. I've already introduced myself to the cafeteria, [he holds up his clean spoon] You eat pretty well here. Better than I've had in other cages. I can tell what most of the things on my plate were originally. In a place like this, in times like these, that's a blessing.

[Now the question. Time to find out the important things. He should have waited, but he doesn't have time to spare.

Who am I? Lark. Where am I? That, as Shakespeare said, is the question.]

I'm still monkey lid drudging cloud?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

What're you lookin' at?

[It's a small show of teeth, feeling him out, but he's beta enough. He won't get too aggressive, not yet anyway.]

Yeah, it's...kinda bullshit, if you ask me? But that's what they say. Some people die an' end up here that way, other people get some kinda deal if they help out the dead guys. Like I said. Bullshit.

[...granted, he ended up with a not too terrible situation, but that's not even the point.]

[And Lark doesn't answer directly; that would be a step too far, too aggressive.]

You sound like you know a thing or two about this place. How long ago did they catch you?

[Cage. Catch. Subtle, dog-perspective words.]

Three months or so? Long enough.

[Long enough to know some things. Not everything, but some. Less than he probably thinks he does.]

[He closes his eyes, centering himself. He can smell food. Damn.]

I get the feeling there's no point in talking to the Admiral.

You can try, but he don't listen to us much.

They got a place here that's got a lotta open space. If that's your thing. Gotta ask to get in, but if you know the right people it ain't that hard.

How would I get in touch with him anyway?

The right people are Wardens, I assume.

Same way you get in touch with anybody else. Send him a message.

Yeah. Only ones with keys.

When's the last time you ran?

[As a dog, or a wolf. It's lingo he's so used to using that he doesn't think to wonder if it will be understood.]

[He understands. It's familiar terminology; a lot easier trying to communicate these things than with Kozak for sure.]

Usually try to get in one a day.

[He's hoping it will help with that whole only-for-an-hour thing, but so far no dice.]

I need a few days to get my head back on right. I spent a month as a dog, it's made it hard to- think like a human.

But once I have, would you care to go for a run?

...Fuck. Yeah, I'd bet.

[He...will probably ask you about that later. Right now he's really more interested in the fact that the new guy's actually asking to hang out with him. That's new.]

Sure, guess I could make room for one more.

[Nonchalant, like he absolutely doesn't really care one way or the other, but it's also not that hard to tell he's skeptical about the request itself.]

[There's no pressure from Lark, just a smile and a grateful nod, as if this is something he does every single day with other shifters.]

Well, I need to find someone to open the CES. What do you like to be called?

Tommy. Talk to Kay, he's good for it. Old guy in a suit, but he's alright anyway.

I will. Thanks.

001.

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