"It's the queen that closed the door, the family that lies
       The people who turn, The cat that has died,
       The girl that OD's, a boy with a gun,
       The world on it's knees, and a band on the run."
              -Indigo Girls-
              "Pushing The Needle Too Far"

"Sharon, MOVE! I mean it!" The huge purple feline ignored Jemaine and nuzzled between the sorceress and her patient for the third time that night.

It had been two days since Meggan had found (caught, summoned, whatever) the furry blue mutant and Catseye was just about fed up to the ears. Bad enough Mother Szardos had worn herself out the first the day trying to purge the effects of minor radiation poisoning from the thing. Even worse that she'd decided to bring it with them when they'd set out the next morning. But ever since Leader Wisdom had called halt for the day, Mother Szardos had been fussing over it. And that was the worst!

"NO!" Catseye yowled back. "MotherMother Szardos NOT mother hen blue-stink-fur-man! Play-romp with Catseye!" Catseye shoved her shoulders and upper torso between Jemaine Szardos the stranger, effectively ending her examination.

"Sharon!" Jemaine sighed in exasperation. "He's sick. Don't I look after you when you're sick?"

Logic didn't sway the annoyed young mutant. "Not same! Catseye special!" The rest of the people gathered around the small campfire made no effort to suppress their snickers. Jemaine didn't really mind, as there was little enough to laugh at in their regular routine. Catseye, however, transferred her annoyance from her "mother" to the rest of traveling companions with ease.

"Half-friends not laugh at MotherMother Szardos!" she spat, before going over to curl up sulkily by the fire. Even in her feline form, the pout on Catseye's face was unmistakable.

Pete Wisdom, reluctant leader of their group (calling them a team would have been an outright lie), smirked as he lit the last of his home-made cigarettes with a hot-knife.

"That's just friggin' amazing, Szardos. We jump on the shittiest foot-detail in the history of the Infernal Gallop, and you've still managed to spoil her."

"She not spoiled." That deep bass voice could only belong to Arron Hlessil, a dark, hulking mountain of a man. But all of that muscle was from years of hard work, helping to build Avalon, a bit of rain-forest tucked away in the heart of Antarctica, and the closest thing to paradise that this world had left to offer. His mutant powers were telepathy and a very weak telekinetic ability. "She just feels neglected. Am I right, Sharon?" Catseye, finding a supporter in the midst of traitors, prowled over to where Arron sat and curled up next to him. "Catseye only like Arron-strong-mind-speak-friend." The young shape-changer purred, glaring across the firelight at Wisdom, who ignored her and sidled up to Meggan.

The elven-faced woman responded by pulling him close and trapping his lips in a passionate embrace. The only times she felt even a marginal respite from the distress her close tie with the world brought her was when she was near her husband. It had nothing to do with Pete's powers, only the fact that she loved him totally, despite his thorny personality, and would concentrate her full attention on him alone. She rarely spoke aloud, trusting that her actions would convey her sentiments. Meggan didn't know about the rest of them, but she and Pete always understood each other perfectly.

Jemaine Szardos rounded out the band. She was human, or flatscan, as her species was more popularly known by those lucky enough to be born mutants. Still, she knew enough about magic and healing to be useful to the Gallop. She'd apparently satisfied herself that her patient wasn't any worse, and was slumped by the fire, looking more than half-spent.

"You OK?" asked Wisdom.

Before she could respond, Catseye guessed the reason from scent alone. "MotherMother Szardos used healing magic!" she accused, padding over to level her unnerving green eyes with Jemaine's.

"I did, Sharon. So?"

"Stupid." huffed the young mutant, lying down. "Not supposed to use twice in one day."

"Ja." agreed Szardos, her German accent becoming thicker and more pronounced as it always did when she was tired, which seemed to be pretty often. "Sher stupid, liebling." She stretched out and pillowed her head on Sharon's flank and yawned, wondering again how a girl only a few years younger than she had managed to imprint on her as "mother." It wasn't as if Jemaine had raised her. She hadn't even managed to make her way to Avalon until five full years after Sharon. Ah, well. It wasn't as if everything in life had to make sense.

Wisdom watched impassively, having known Szardos long enough to know what was going on. She'd wear herself to a bloody nub looking after someone who was sick or out of it, but once they were up and about, she tended to wash her hands of them. All the same, he felt obliged to give her a hard time.

"Watch it, Szardos." he muttered in his usual borderline growl. "You drop on us and Hlessil'll have to tote you and that... that fuzzy elf both." Arron snorted. "If she drops, she can get Catseye to carry her." No one noticed the stranger in their midst groping for the swords that had been lain at his side until Arron caught a flash of primal fear and hostility.

"Jemaine! Sharon! Look-!"

BAMF!

Before either woman knew what was going on, Jemaine's patient had her pinned to the ground with one two-toed foot, and had blades held to her throat and Catseye's.

To be continued in part 4...