"Aaand right on target for being a geek," Helen laughs. "Alright, let's see if you fail freshman algebra." Without an internet connection, she's got to make up her own set of math problems. They go from calculating lengths of sides and diameters in simple circles and polygons, to calculating angles and diameters and radiuses of more intricate assemblages of lines and arcs. After awhile the diagrams drawn on the floor with water and fingertip and a length of string look less freshman algebra and more fullmetal alchemist. She's having fun, too.
Your brain is fizzing and sparking just the way you like it, and you are utterly happy. Perhaps in a more simple way than usual; perhaps on fewer levels than you're accustomed to. As you follow logic and well-memorized processes through the problems she sets you, you can't spare any thought for why she's doing this, or what the more arcane-looking diagrams are for. Rather than lacking focus, you might be said to have too much focus -- you're locked onto Puzzle Fun Time the way Erskin locks onto a good mustardy ham-and-swiss. Eventually, though, they do get too hard. Even 'cheating' by writing down the occasional variable as you work out a value for it, you can't hold enough of the puzzle in your mind at once to solve it. You give up with a good-natured sigh. Thanks, that was fun, you type. My brain is tired now like I've been cramming encryption algorithms, not doing high school geometry. So there's some data for you. You also had to slow waaaay down and spell 'encryption algorithms' with great care, which you know she saw.
Helen sits down by Bel and essays a scratch behind the ears. "That wasn't exactly schoolboy work by the end," she lets him know. "If you were to trace that last set over with printer ink and baby blood, you could summon a small cacodemon to tell you a secret."
You scoot the tablet over so you can lean against her for further scritches while you type. That sounds like a terrible idea, but remind me when I'm smart again bc I'm going to ask you why everything.
Helen gives an exaggerated grimace. "Next time I'm volunteering for guard duty I'm going to make sure beforehand that I won't be stuck in a box with nerds."
You give a tongue-lolling laugh. Don't even front, you were having fun too. You lick her cheek in thanks for the entertainment, then bound off to pester Erskin. He has fascinatingly awful spam breath and chewy ears.
You've been playing keepaway with Pancho, Logan, and the not-yet-licked-clean spam can. When Bel plows into the mix you completely lose the game and wind up underneath fifty tons of fluff, kicking ineffectually. "One day I shall have my revenge!" You promise darkly. He bites your tail. Life is not fair.
"When I'm human you can turn me into a helpless puddle just by nibbling on my neck, I think this is perfectly equitable," you explain while you roll him over and try to eat his left hind foot.
"When you're human I'm going to eat both your feet and see how you like it!" you retort, trying to hit him on the face with just your one front paw.
"When we're human my feet are a lot bigger and your mouth is a lot smaller, so that will be fun to watch!" Rassling and trash talking is a great way to spend a day. You miss other activities less and less as the day wears on and the full moon grows closer.
After a full and happy day of wrestling, napping, eating, poking gingerly around the foldspace rooms for interesting items (so far nothing particularly diverting to your sensibilities, but Pancho and Bel make a variety of 'ooh neat' noises), and short-range piss breaks, Pancho sniffs and paws at your shoulder and gives you a tentative okay to take the sling off. You take two waggy, delighted steps, and fall over. Your limb's gone so asleep. You lie on your side and make a huge self-pitying fuss, just because Bel's laughing at you.
"Oh noes, you are one hundred percent crippled forever, I'll have to carry you around on my back!" you tease while you help him lick feeling back into his paw. "If it falls off can I keep it for luck?"
"No! If it falls off I'm eating it to reabsorb vital nutrients!" The phrase is much simpler in werewolf.
You whine. "But I want a lucky Erskin foot..." He has another go at putting the paw on the floor; you stand ready to be leaned on if he lurches. "How's it feel?"
"Tingly as hell." You rest your chin on his shoulder, trying to wait it out, but you're too squirmy and tingly and you end up gnawing on his mane instead to distract yourself. This leads to more rough-housing, by the end of which your numb leg's been thoroughly revived. It twinges a bit in your shoulder, where the bone's probably still a trifle cracked, but you have four legs again and are eager to use them. "Let's go, let's run!" you bark. (my alternate log-ins are invisible at the moment. maybe some forum shenanigans are still afoot.)
"We're going on a date," you announce to Pancho. "Don't wait up for us." "Have fun," she returns cheerfully. "Can I use your tablet to pester Helen for treats to train Logan with? I'm going to teach her some weird tricks while she can understand me." "Sure. Good luck with that," you laugh as you trot after Erskin to the door. (mine too, i'm using my admin superpowers to 'post as user' so i can be bel anyway :D)
The night air smells better now that you're on all four paws, the stars brighter, the sounds sharper. Though that could just be the moonlight, slanting down silver and heavy and beautiful. You're so delighted with everything that you go bounding across the field in huge, ridiculous jumps, yapping like a puppy: "Look! Look at the world! There's so much and it's all ours! I'm going to run on all of it!"
"Look at the sky!" you return, every bit as enthusiastic. "It's so big, Erskin, look at all the stars! I'm going to get you one!" You take a running start and jump so high, and then come galloping up to him proud as punch, as if you really do have a star caught in your teeth.
"You dropped it somewhere, genius," you tease him, and grab his muzzle. Give it a shake, then dash off in a new direction. You're going to run forever, and do it really fast. Maybe you'll also catch a rabbit somewhere along the way.
The night air is frosty and clean, and Erskin is your personal comet to chase; you're happy to your bones. You stretch your legs out and run side by side with him through the crunchy grass. Occasionally you'll go through a patch of something with flyaway seeds, and send up a puff of fluffs. Your breath steams. It really does feel like the whole world is your racetrack.
