The silver-scaled beastling and Linda had played for a long time, still it wasn't tired at all.
It spun around her paws, nudging her with its tail tip, and tapping her whiskers with its cold, forked tongue. It didn't look like a fierce beast, but more like a silent child, expressing emotions through actions.
The more they played, the more curious Linda grew about this strange world.
She wished she could talk to it.
She didn't even know its name—only its imposing title as young master.
She wondered: why did the beastmen on the skyship all appear human, except this little creature?
Its father was a dragon, able to transform into human form. But what about the son, was it unable to?
Was it born this way? Or... was it defective?
Maybe it was stuck in beast form, like her.
This thought was oddly comforting.
If this was truly the Beast World, and beasts could transform into humans naturally and not by mutation or science, then she might not be the only one trapped in animal form.
She wondered about the beastling's age—was it too young to transform, or born a serpent, lacking the ability to?
She couldn't tell, but her paws had a long-forgotten urge to examine it.
Linda was skilled with animals.
Even with rabbit paws, the instinct to read and touch creatures remained.
At ten, her grandfather took her to a den of reptiles and taught her to identify snakes' sex, molt frequency, and age by scales...
If she had hands, she'd examine the sliver slim beast and find out everything.
Irrespective, the two of them chased after each other, weaving through baskets, shelves, and books as they played, until a strange noise came from the storage room ahead.
Linda's ears perked up, and she hopped forward.
In the storage room, a medical officer gripped a report, shaking, his face pale.
He was so scared that the next moment his ears softened, thinned, and split into delicate fish gills.
The paper slipped from his hands.
His skin tightened, sweat pores closing, and faint golden scales emerged on his jaw and neck. The identity stone on his neck that read "No. 13 · Scaled Tribe" had disappeared into the fish scales.
He was a quarter of the way through transformation into a full fish.
Linda's mind jolted.
Those were goldfish gills. They were beautiful, shiny, but fragile.
But Goldfish shouldn't be on dry land.
Linda rushed into the storage room, the silver beastling following behind.
She leapt onto a high shelf, over the transforming medical officer. A glass jar of water sat there; she pushed it.
Splash!
Water drenched the half-transformed man. The scales suddenly stopped growing, his trembling eased, and he exhaled shakily.
Linda smiled inwardly.
Water stabilized his mind, slowing the transformation and sparing him humiliation. So why didn't he use it himself?
She couldn't ask that question because she couldn't speak.
As she pondered, cracking sounds came from the floor.
The man who had stopped transforming suddenly transformed faster. In moments, he became a huge, glittering goldfish, flapping helplessly on the wet ground. It was now completely a fish.
Linda looked at the beast fish, calculating much it would worth. £20,000?
She tasted the jar wondering why the man didn't stop transforming but instead completely became a fish even after she poured water on him. The jar tasted salty.
Saltwater! Totally wrong for goldfish.
She darted between shelves, checking containers.
Salty. Salty. Salty. Until… Freshwater!
She pushed the big bucket of freshwater, struggling but succeeding. Water cascaded onto the goldfish.
Yes!
But as the water fell, the little silver snake following Linda got thoroughly drenched.
The snake's tiny body shuddered, slid off the wet shelf, and curled up on the ground. It became motionless.
Linda froze.
The goldfish too was totally still and unmoving just like the snake.
The important report the medical officer had been reading before all these was totally soaked beyond recognition.
Her heart sank.
Suddenly, the silver snake curled tighter, like it was in totally pain before becoming unconscious.
The goldfish, though open-eyed, was lifeless too.
Linda's heart raced. She was tensed.
Just then, footsteps and voices approached.
"The young master doesn't sleep, master." Scliff complained. "He's defective by birth. Why waste time putting him to bed? Let him play with the beast pet."
"Doesn't the rabbit need rest?" Gaffer asked casually.
Scliff frowned. Why was the master defending a common rabbit?
The silver young master's affinity was pitifully low and due to this he barely ate or slept. It was utterly aloof to others, close only to his father. Worse, he was born insomniac so only unconsciousness counted as sleep.
Ahead, a subordinate greeted. "Greetings, Master Imoogi. I was on my way to find you."
"Why?" Gaffer asked.
"The young master headed to the reservoir, following the beast pet."
"…"
Gaffer and Scliff exchanged looks.
"Of all places..." Scliff whispered.
As Scaled Tribe, they hated water since birth, treating it as a curse. They drank blood, not water and ate meat, not grass; that's how they were.
So because water was dangerous as they deemed, they kept all water sources far away in the reservoir.
The two quickened their pace.
Meanwhile, Linda crouched behind a shelf, ears flat and tail stiff.
She stared at the unconscious silver snake and motionless goldfish, then the ruined report.
She'd barely escaped the fox and hound territory, and now... she seemed to stumble into new trouble.
Her heart pounded like it'd been grabbed.
She was in an even worse trouble this time.