Another.

This was a mistake...

After learning that the Man after me is some sort of 'Divine King', I had decided that maybe another beer wouldn't hurt...

Or two... maybe three... another wouldn't be too bad right now...

"Monster, what are you doing?!" Says a blurry thing, with red on it, hehe... its funny looking.

"Getting another... bee... a brrrr..." I say, as eloquent as ever; truly, I am a well spoken beast.

"By Ardor's bushy beard, you've gone and gotten drunk." The red blob says, sounding worried for some strange reason. "Follow me back to the room."

"But... hehe, butt... but my drink..." I plea, ever thirsty for relief from this fleshy hell I reside in.

"I will drag you to your hammock if I have too." Says the blobby blob of blob.

How dare this blob demand I go back to that itchy, annoying thing! "I hate the ham... hamm... the thing. I hate it, its so rough on my little wings..."

"Then I'll pull out one of our sleeping mats. Come on now, and I'll give you a treat." Says Bob, the Blob; that's its name now... hehe...

I follow Bob through the choo-choo train, choo choo! What's a train? Why am I laying down?

"Alright, eat this. Its a treat." Says Bob; a treat! Is it more beer?

A horrid, wriggling, bitter thing is shoved in my mouth while a gloved hand pinches my nose, the hand which placed the object in my mouth is now holding my jaw closed. Everything becomes clear as I swallow the disgusting whatever-that-thing-is.

Cilla, holding my nose and jaw closed, looks extremely cross with me.

"This had better not be a recurring habit, Monster." She say, moving the hand from my nose to my back. "Those beetles are hard to come by on the ocean, you know."

Beetles? What beetle... oh.

As soon as I begin heaving up my guts, Cilla has already gotten a bucket. "The Umonebri, or Booze Beetle. Absorbs **** directly from the bloodstream when consumed. Bred by a dwarven Anthromagus. I found one the day we met in that forest. Did you know they can live for weeks without food?"

"A wonderful lesson..." I mutter, throat racked by stomach acid; now seeing the still living beetle in the bucket. "Why did you put a LIVING one in my mouth?"

"They keep longer if you don't kill them." She says; acting as if she were simply discussing the weather.

It seems Cilla's gloves hadn't been spared from my intestinal onslaught while she held the bucket; as she pulled the dirtied pair from her hands. I had never seen her hands before; and now I see why she wears the gloves. Clawed fingers on a fuzzy hand, but there was something strange about the joints of her visible flesh. It was as if her hands had been constructed, rather than having grown naturally; each joint connecting to the next with visible lines which separated the tough looking skin. When flexed, these joints would at time reveal an insignifigant amount of pinkish, soft flesh beneath the slits. Her knuckles were ever-so-slightly visible protrusions, with similar lines distinguishing them from the rest of her hand. The best comparison I could make would be that of pieces of armor found in Pyre's workshop; where the joints were visibly intended to permit movement, rather than being a smooth singular piece.

Seeing my eyes on her mitts, she hides her hands, staring silently at me with her emerald eye.

Not long after, she speaks slowly and quietly, averting eye contact; sounding ashamed of her own being. "The curse of my family is not an... exact science. I, for example, take after insects in a few ways..."

She plucks the booze beetle as it makes it way from the puke bucket, somehow pristine of any filth, and presents it to me. "Do you see its exo-skeleton?"

At closer examination, I do. The little thing has similar joints to Cilla's hand, its armored exterior allowing movement in only those select areas.

"Its like that across my entire body, all sectioned up, hard as a rock... Thankfully, by mane hides it around my neck; so I don't need a face covering..." She mutters out, but her voice is unlike her; when explaining something, her tone is usually as flat as her chest, but has this underlying bit of excitement.

Now, it is all simply shame.

"Why do you hide it?" I ask.

"It's repulsive... an aberration to nature..." She whispers, **** slightly.

Concerned now, I attempt to ease my handler, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I don't think so... I don't see it as any different from my scales, tail, or anything else different about me."

"Its kind of you to say, but you've only ever known your scales... I was alive when the curse first took place. I used to be... Me..." Cilla sits down onto the wooden floorboards, sitting up against the wall. "I was twenty when the curse took its toll; caught unaware, as I never even knew of Maxwell before my transformation. Once it changed me, I was marked as 'One of the traitors dark children.' After I fled my village with my mother... he found us. I was brought into his 'family', where I stayed for years, doing his bidding. I was tasked with trying to find a cure to our sterility; for what good is a servant of the Goddess of **** if they cannot spawn more chaff for the armies of the Dark. This was my task to prove myself as the 'Heiress of ****'. I was following one such lead, an artifact said to be able to cure all ails... I intended to simply use it to remove my own curse, and return into the lands of the Light; hide away somewhere, never to see my family again. I ran into opposition, a knight in search of the object for an ailing little girl. We fought; and he won. I dragged my bleeding, dying body to the shoreline, where a Runacathy Agent found me; Maria. You may remember her, the leader of the Tomo branch?"

I nod, wishing I could move the horrid bucket out of the room during this sensitive time.

"It was she who brought me back into the Light... I thank the Gods every day for her..." Tears start forming in Cilla's eyes, which she brushes away with the hand which holds the booze beetle.

"Agh!"

Tossing aside the beetle, and regaining composure, Cilla continues her story. "Since then, I've tried my best to be an invaluable asset for the Runacathies. I wanted to be like Maria... but my reputation proceeded me... you know how that went..."

"Hey, at least you're doing a good job with me." I say, trying my best to keep Cilla calm.

I failed horribly; as she mutters bitterly. "Really? You nearly died within hours of me finding you, and have had three fourths of your psyche burnt away... I've failed you at each turn..."

"No, I failed you." I say, my grip on her shoulder tightening ever so slightly. "I'm the one who let Sarmenti take me away; and I should have been more careful around that construct. That was on me, not you. Without you, I'd be dumber than a pile of rocks. Think of all the things you've informed me on."

"I didn't get to teach you of magic, or the gods..." She whimpers.

I put my other hand on her other shoulder, half tempted to shake some sense into this girl. "But you would have; and probably better than the ones who taught me. Aside from all that... you're a wonderful friend. Despite the fact I have a broken mind, you stick with me. Despite the fact I'm being hunted by Sarmenti, you're still with me. Despite my stupid little quest to find Tomoko, you're still here. Most people would have left the second they found out I had voices in my head, quite literally screaming bloody ****! You didn't, simple as. You're doing a fantastic job, Cilla."

All of a sudden, I'm being embraced by my friend, who I hold in turn.

She pulls back slightly, tears awash in her unpatched eye, and says.

"Cilla is what I ask strangers to call me. So please, call me Prissy, friend."