Chapter 4, end.

From the far wall, Monyet heard a soft voice. The Kissa woman didn't seem to notice in her gloating as she trounced away, so he pretended not to have heard anything until she was out of sight. When the coast was clear, he scuttled over to the cell wall and tapped on it three times with a broken-off bit of rock he found on the floor.

"Who are you?"

He projected as best he could, but to no avail. He tapped again to acknowledge the voice.

After a long silence, the person on the other side seemed to come to a realization. "Can you speak? Tap twice and twice again for no."

Tap-tap. Tap-tap.

"Oh... I wish I could understand you better than this. It's not easy to coordinate with just yes and no."

Monyet knew the feeling all too well. He projected this thought to the best of his ability, that maybe the person on the other side would be able to sense him anyway.

"I've been waiting here for days for someone to help me escape," continued the other person. "It gets lonely in this cell by myself. I don't know why they're keeping me. I'm only a Grade 8 Base-ES. They don't even want me to heal them, though."

Once again, Monyet projected his feelings as he tapped out an acknowledgement, but the other captive didn't seem responsive. Perhaps she didn't know...

He wanted to teach her. He wanted someone to understand him. If she opened her mind, she could learn to shift base—

He pounded on the wall as though his life depended on it. She had to get his message somehow!

"What's the matter?" she asked, a mix of concern and fear in her voice. "Are you in danger?"

Tap-tap. Tap-tap.

"You want to tell me something? Three times and once for yes."

Tap-tap-tap. Tap.

"But – how? Are you..."

He projected with every fibre of his being, desperate to send his message. If only she understood—

"—Base-MY?"

Yes! Tap-tap-tap! Tap!

"You're psychic! Oh!" There was an unbearable pause as he listened with bated breath for her next words. "...Monyet?"

Taptaptap-tap! Success!

"Oh, you poor dear! I—" As quickly as she had cheered their psychic link, she became despondent again. "I don't know how we'll be able to combine our forces to escape. They're too strong for a Grade 7 to influence."

Don't worry, Conejo. You have a Paciente style. The opportunity will present itself in time.

"Yes, this is true, little Monyet. We will wait."

He wished he could be with her, not just to comfort her but to ease his own fears. Kambing was gone—he didn't want to be alone.

"Your prior is fine, little one," she consoled him. "They brought him past my cell earlier, and I can just barely hear him in a cell farther down from here. I don't know how far, though."

Kambing! He whimpered that his guardian was out of reach—the anti-spell barriers were too high to project much farther than the edges of Conejo's cell.

"I know, sweetie. This isn't fair for any of us."

He supposed it had to be small comfort that she was able to detect the shift so quickly. Perhaps they should use the time to learn each other's bases.

"Perhaps. If nothing else, it will help pass the time."

It did help ease his mind to teach, rather than worry. He related his various experiences and culled from hers, pushing his terror farther from his mind the more he learned the essence of healing and she the fundamentals of telepathy. The hours passed quickly, to the point where he failed to notice that it had been as long since he had last slept until Conejo reminded him as such.

"You are a fast learner," she noted, pleased. "Do you think you will be able to shift now?"

He hoped so. It would be his first time—he didn't really know what to expect.

"Neither do I. Shall we do it together?"

Yes.

Monyet_ES

Conejo_MY

He examined himself post-shift. His fur was brighter, sleeker. He almost felt taller, as well. Yet—he still couldn't... but that was fine, as long as one of them could project. 'Allo, Kelinci.

"Well met, Mico."