Bardy and Malakos approached the entrance to the base just as the sky was beginning to lighten. 

"Bardy," Malakos said, before they came within earshot. "Is this…is this a bad idea? Bringing a werewolf onto base? Even young ones can cause serious damage, and we're shorthanded as is."

"Little bit late for second thoughts about my daring rescue, Malakos," Bardy said.

"I'm not having second thoughts about the rescue," Malakos clarified. "I just don't know where to go from here. We could–"

"She's not coming with us. Yeesh, I thought Ruby was the one with a pet-adopting problem."

Malakos began to speak, but was interrupted by the guard.

"Oh you're back. Where'd you take off to in such a rush? Nearly bowled me over, flinging the door open like–oh hey! It's the halfling!"

"The very same!" Bardy announced, adapting much more readily to his newfound fame than most of the others had. "Freshly returned from a daring rescue!"

"Oh, did the royal guard catch you?"

"NO! I was doing the rescuing!" He waved his arm toward the child in Malakos's arms.

"Oh," the guard's voice dropped low upon seeing the sleeping child. "As expected of you, eh? What happened?" 

As Bardy regaled the guard with his tale of derring-do, Malakos slipped into the base. There were a few early risers milling around, getting breakfast. The cleric recognized most of them, including…

"Lady Dimir," Malakos said, approaching the rebel leader. 

She turned to the sound of his voice. "Ah, I was just looking for you. Did you find–" she glanced down at the bundle in his arms, then looked up at him.

"I thought…" she asked, her words slow and deliberate, as though suddenly unsure about the tiefling 's mental state, "that the child was getting treatment, and Bardy would be returning to your team?"

"Bardy's outside," Malakos jerked his head toward the door. "There's uh, there's been some change in plans."

As he explained the situation, Lady Dimir's face remained inscrutable.

"I don't wish to cause you any extra trouble," Malakos said, "but we won't abandon her. If we need to take her with us–" 

The leader cut him off with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Not a good idea. Your assignments are not in child-friendly areas–you'd better leave her here."

"But if she transforms while we're away–"

"We are equipped to handle that. This base was originally a Whispenshire prison outpost. We have cells that should hold her, if things get out of hand."

Malakos pursed his lips. He wasn't sure about that 'should.' He was even less sure about putting a child in a prison cell. But he couldn't argue that they had better options.

"It's only temporary," Dimir said. 

"Okay," Malakos conceded. Then he added, "thank you. I'll go, uh," he indicated the child in his arms, who was starting to stir. "I'll go get her settled, then."

Dimir called over a scarred dwarf, who led Malakos to the cells. 

They weren't as horrible as one might reasonably expect an abandoned-prison-turned-rebel-base to be; in fact, some few of them had been turned into sleeping quarters for the troops. Tiefling and dwarf cleared out one of the remaining cells and procured bedding for her. As she stirred in her cot, Malakos silently backed out of the room and turned a corner.

"Hey, watch it!" Bardy yelped.

"Ah, shh!" Malakos shushed him.

"What are we doing here?" 

"We'll be housing her here while we're away," Malakos explained. "It may be lacking in domestic comforts, but…"

"It's sturdy," Bardy knocked on the cell bars approvingly. "That's all that matters."

I hope it's enough, Malakos thought as Bardy took in the cell. The cleric abruptly ducked back away from the cell when he saw the girl struggle to sit up, blinking off the sedative she'd been under. 

Malakos chewed his thumbnail. If she did present a danger to the rest of the Red Cloaks, they would have to find a way to restrain her. Would the bars be enough? He'd heard stories–who hadn't?--about the fearsome strength that the curse granted its bearers. The only thing that worked against it was silver—everyone knew that. But would silver constraints keep her from transforming, or would they hurt her?

“Psst. Bardy.” Malakos motioned him over to the alcove he had secreted himself in, out of the child's view. He fished in his pocket as the halfling joined him. “See if she can hold this.” He handed him a silver coin.

“Why don't you do it?”

“Bardy.” Malakos deadpanned. “Look me in my pale, pupil-less eyes, and tell me that what that child needs after her ordeal is to have someone of fiendish appearance start interrogating her about her condition.”

“Malakos--”

“You saw how her father reacted to me—they've likely had negative interactions with people...or creatures...that look like me. He's sure to have taught her to avoid such.” He added quietly, “At least, if he's smart, he has.”

Bardy opened his mouth to say something, but Malakos's countenance changed to a smile; he placed the coin in the halfling's hand and gave him a push toward the child while adding blithely, “And anyway, you're already at eye level for her, so you're perfect for the job!”

“Uh, hey there, little girl,” Bardy started. “D'you uh, d'you want to hold this for me for a bit?” He held out the coin. The little girl reached forward mildly, gripping it in one thin hand. She still seemed so weak—depleted of the liveliness to which children seemed so prone. Malakos peered closely from around the corner at her hand. It had barely been gripping the coin for ten seconds, but he could already see the skin around it reddening, reacting to the metal.

Malakos whispered an Infernal curse under his breath. Silver was out of the question. “Bardy!” He whispered. “Get that coin out of her hands. Trade her for these copper ones.” He handed the halfling ten copper. “See if you can find out if she knows anything about her circumstances. If she's ever transformed before, that sort of thing.”

“Hey, uh, little girl. Can I trade you for that coin? You can have these coins instead.”

The child looked at him with big brown eyes and accepted the trade without complaint.

“So...kid. Do you, um, are you...strong?” Bardy asked awkwardly. Unless he was playing music, he'd never been good around kids—he had essentially maintained the role of the baby of the family (the whole village, really), for as long as he could remember—which, admittedly, was not very long.

“Mm-hm,” she responded softly, holding up her arms as though flexing them. She quickly dropped them back to her side again, though, apparently taxed by even this one gesture.

“Do you...ever feel like...uh...biting people?”

Unseen around the corner, Malakos cradled his face in his hands.

“Sometimes,” the child admitted.

“Have you ever bitten--”

Malakos interrupted Bardy in a hiss. “Her name, Bardy! Start by asking her name!”

“Oh right—what's your name?”

“Amewia,” she responded without looking up. She was playing with the copper coins as though they were people. “Dis one's da mom. And dis one's da dad. And dis is da baby,” she explained to Bardy.

“Uh, that's great,” Bardy said. “So, Amelia, uh, do you ever grow really big? Like, when the moon is full?”

“No moon. No yight. Onyee dawk,” she responded. “What's dis one?” She asked, holding up one of the unnamed coppers.

“Uh...Fleegle. That one's Uncle Fleegle,” Bardy responded. She nodded, seemingly satisfied, and placed it next to the other coppers in the family. “So, you've never grown really big--?”

“What's dis one?” She asked, holding up another copper.

“Auntie Schmoop,” Bardy responded. “Have you ever bitten anyone?”

“No, no biting. Biting's bad. What's dis one?” She held up another copper.

“Cousin Hundsy,” Bardy responded. He watched her line up the coppers on the stones in front of her, her thin little fingers gently pushing them into place. He looked at Malakos. “Malakoooosss…" he whimpered quietly, "This is bad…I'm getting attached!" 

Malakos snickered. "Took you that long, huh?"

Bardy had walked back over to the tiefling, out of earshot of the little girl. "But what if something bad happens to her? Malakos, what if…we're supposed to leave today for Goldrak. What if she's lonely or scared while we're gone? What if something bad happens?!"

"We'll do everything we can for her, Bardy. To begin with, let's walk her around base–introduce her to the other members. Once they've met her, I'm sure they'll be perfectly doting guardians. She won't even notice we're gone."

"Are you going to be joining the introductions?"

"Of course! From a few feet behind you. Like, twenty."

As predicted, the other Red Cloaks had but to look at the child to be charmed by her. As Malakos and Bardy slipped toward the main hall, they could hear one of the orc guards asking in a high-pitched voice, "May I please have some more tea, Miss Amelia?"

"Well, that's one charge taken care of," Malakos said. "Now–what about Lorenzo? Last night, when he tried to read some limericks, someone threw a bottle at his head. Do we need to take him with us?"

"No!" Deruque said. "I'm not fueling any more of that ballad he's got going on about you and me."

"We promised to watch out for him," Malakos argued. "And anyway, our absence may only provoke his imagination." 

"Leave it to me. Hey guys–" Deruque put his arms around some of the other members nearby. "--it's just not right to have any kind of infighting. We're all against the same evil, here. Our party's taking off on an assignment today, and I don't want to come back and find that our buddy's been scared away from the cause." 

The guards grumbled a little bit before Deruque continued, "Let me just remind you of what  we're fighting for, with one of my famous rousing speeches!"

The guards–the two he had grabbed and two more nearby–panicked. They grabbed Deruque off the table and started hauling him to the exit.

"No need for that! No need for that!" 

"We'll take good, good care of him! You have our word!"

"Let's get you on your way, then! The mission awaits!"

"Off you go!"

Ruby, Patch, Malakos, and Bardy had to run to catch up, the door slamming shut behind them all.

"Well then," Malakos said, shifting his rucksack onto his shoulders. "I guess that's our cue to leave."