You're all on your own now, you and Hawkmom. You eat the food that she brings back raw, but it never tastes any good to you. If nothing else, they fed you well in the facility, to keep your energy up. It takes you a week or so to find the first hive you shelter in. You didn't want one on the ground- all the ones you found seemed too open and exposed for your taste, and you knew that now that Hawkmom was free to roam, she'd want a place nestled in the treetops. She was part of the reason you had escaped. The other part being.... Him. You didn't even know that scientist's name, did you? The tree hive you find, or rather, that Hawkmom does, is small by other trolls' standards, but you adore it. You haven't had your own space in so long, you forgot what it was like. There was no electricity, but that was fine by you. You wouldn't have surprised yourself if it made you jumpy- your psionics gave you a tendency to sense electric currents and be drawn to them, and in the long run, you didn't think you could currently handle that. Anything that tried to interact with you, save Hawkmom, put you on edge now. You find a pile of old blankets left by the previous hive owner- there's a lot of useful stuff left behind, like they were in a hurry to get out, and you would've thought they still lived there if not for the thick layer of dust that had accumulated, as well as the song feather beasts you found nesting in one room that you felt too guilty to make leave, so you let then be. Hive mates like them would be good for you- they were small, as lusii went. They weren't hurting you. The blankets, though- they are a relief. You can be warm. It was just your luck that you escaped just as the cold season started. You also hoped the pile would help ease your daymares- they plague you every time you close your eyes. You also find that they have a small wood stove. It seems to you that it would be a dangerous hazard in a tree hive, but you decide to attempt to use it. The first attempt isn't as disastrous as it could've been, the second you make a clumsy mistake and come close to burning down your hive, and the third you almost get it, but you burn yourself in the attempt. It takes you another week afterwards to approach the small stove again, and you succeed in cooking a small amount of meat, albeit in an inelegant fashion. Every victory counted for you now, though, no matter how small. It was by that time, though, that you were beginning to realize how much you'd missed your lusus during your imprisonment. You were certain she wouldn't wait for you, as, after all, she had been held in an open-air courtyard without any kind of security, and you didn't ever get to see her unless it was one of the rare occasions that you were being shoved along a corridor that gave you a view of her. That was your only reassurance that she was still there. In all that time. And now, you were broken, a wriggler again, and had been away from her for what, seven, eight sweeps? You didn't even remember your wriggling day. But maybe she'd known. In her infinite lusus-y wisdom, maybe she'd sensed that you would always need her like this again. Though you'd begin to feel the rift all that time apart had caused, you could also feel it mending itself. She was your lusus, and without her, you wouldn't be here. You would still be in the facility, under lock and key. And for all the things she'd done for you, you adored your lusus. For her, you'd give your life, and that was all that mattered.