| While Fred and Alicia were scrounging up some vittles in the Captain's
mess, the family of weasels lay huddled in their corner of the dark cargo
hold.
"Dromedary, m' dear," said the male. "Can ye pass me a wee bit o' lard?" "'Course, m' darling" answered Dromedary. "Alpaca, d' ye think we'll ever have a normal life?" Alpaca looked at his wife lovingly, a tear beginning to form within his inner eyelid. "Dearie, 'normal' is gone, it's been gone fer eighteen months now. Please, leave it be." The mood was somber, yet the woman would not let it go. "But Al," she said. "What of the children? Little Vicuna and Bactrian, how will our daughter and son know of who they truly are? Will we ever see the sands of the Arabi or the blue-green droplets of an oasis?" Alcuna reached out and held his wife. The baby stirred in Dromedary's lap while Bactrian continued to suck his thumb in the blissful ignorance of his own condition. The couple continued their hug for many long moments, their fears and sadness finding consolation only in the physical caress of their hearts and souls. ************** Meanwhile, above deck, Patches was having a philosophical discussion with another fellow were-bear. "....don't get me wrong," he said. "Leaving the island isn't the worst thing we could've chosen. But what if we ARE the carriers of this plague?" "Then the normals shall die," answered the other bear. "But the 'normals' are our brothers, our mothers and fathers, our sisters and wives!" "Our only family be this troupe of werefolk! Don't deceive yourself, your 'father' would bash your head in the moment he saw your hairy face!" "True, yet does that give me the right to bring the plague upon my father?" "It's either them or us!" "Is it?" interrupted Moran. "If we find a nice tropical isle with enough fruit and berries and other such critters as please our stomachs, do we even need set foot in our ancient homelands?" And the ship sailed on.....
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