"First," Barbatos began, her voice calm and measured, "Use that mask to purchase these: [Enhanced Perception: Sight], [Enhanced Perception: Hearing], [Stalking], and [Leporine Anatomy]. I'd normally recommend against purchasing that last one, but it will also apply to half of your anatomy."

I nodded, though something about the order felt… off. But Barbatos had made it clear—this wasn't a time for questions. I brought the Mask of the Familiar Stranger up to my face once again, feeling it settle comfortably, as if it were a natural extension of me. A soft hum, almost like an echo, resonated inside my skull as the familiar process of Familiarity Point expenditure began.

The first purchase was simple. [Enhanced Perception: Sight], I chose. The sensation of my vision sharpening, every detail popping into focus with the clarity of a hawk's eye. Then, [Enhanced Perception: Hearing]—a strange, almost overwhelming rush of sounds filled my senses: the rustle of the grass, the distant hum of insects, the whisper of the wind as it slid through the branches overhead. My ears adjusted quickly, honing in on the slightest of movements.

[Stalking] followed. It felt like I was becoming something else entirely—like my body knew how to move with the quiet stillness of a predator. My instincts sharpened, and the ground beneath my feet felt more alive, every step I took measured, careful, as if I were a part of the landscape rather than simply walking on it.

And then… [Leporine Anatomy]. A strange choice, but I trusted Barbatos. The moment it activated, a series of subtle shifts rippled through my body. The tips of my fingers tingled, and my legs felt… stronger. More agile. Something akin to a rabbit's grace coursed through me. My muscles were fine-tuned for speed, for evasion. It wasn't just a skill—it was as though my body was molded for this.

The familiar hum of the mask's energy receded, and I opened my eyes, feeling a sense of calm and clarity that hadn't been there before. The world around me seemed different, sharper, more alive. I could hear things I couldn't before, see farther, and feel the tension in the air as I crouched, ready to hunt.

[Enhanced Perception: Sight], [Enhanced Perception: Hearing], [Stalking], [Leporine Anatomy]—each one had been tailored to fit the hunt.

Remaining FP: 2700.

I stood still for a moment, letting the new skills settle in. Everything had changed. The way I moved, the way I saw the world, the way I felt the very air around me—everything was more… precise. But there was one lingering question that gnawed at me.

"Why are some skills more expensive than others?" I asked Barbatos quietly, the curiosity itching at the back of my mind. The familiar hum of the mask's presence still buzzed in my consciousness, but I was beginning to get used to it.

Barbatos turned her head slightly, eyes glinting with that strange, predatory amusement of hers.

"Affinities, Alexander." She spoke as though the answer should've been obvious, her voice low and almost hypnotic. "Some skills are more attuned to you than others. Your truth is resonating with that mask."

I frowned, processing what she said. Truth? What did that have to do with this?

Barbatos's gaze sharpened, and for a moment, her smile grew, like a hunter who'd cornered its prey. "Your truth is about transactions, right?"

I blinked, confusion flickering over me. The Mask of the Familiar Stranger had always felt like a tool—a vessel for learning, for gaining power. But her words made it sound like it was more than that. Was my truth somehow influencing what I could buy?

She stepped closer, the sound of her footfalls almost inaudible on the grass as she neared. Then, with a smile that was equal parts wicked and seductive, she added, "It's a good match. You and that mask. Every choice you make will be an exchange. It's all about what you give, and what you get in return."

I didn't know how to respond to that. The words hung in the air, and I felt the weight of them pressing down on me. This wasn't just about hunting anymore. This was about something far deeper.

Barbatos raised an eyebrow, sensing my uncertainty. "You'll learn quickly enough," she said with a glint of amusement. "In the meantime, don't waste those Familiarity Points. They're yours to command, but only as long as you understand the value of what you've chosen." She turned away, her panther-like form moving with a grace that only further deepened the tension in my chest. "Now, let's get back to the rabbit. Focus, Alexander. Focus on the hunt."

I swallowed, refocusing my thoughts. The familiar energy of the mask swirled around me, and for a brief moment, I allowed myself to feel its power, its potential. The air was alive with possibilities, and I had the tools to make them a reality.

But first, the rabbit.

"How am… I'll be honest, how am I going to catch a rabbit?" I whispered, the question feeling almost absurd as it escaped my lips. I couldn't help but wonder if I had just signed myself up for failure, but Barbatos simply smiled at me—a predatory, knowing smile that made my chest tighten.

"You stalk it," she replied, her voice steady, calm. "No matter how much we deny our humanity as beasts, we are still human. Mostly." She gave me a pointed look, as though daring me to get into an argument about the nature of humanity, but I stayed silent. The thought of arguing in the face of her confidence seemed... unwise.

She continued, her eyes never leaving mine. "Humanity, in all its forms, is a persistent predator. Think of the people of yore—the ones who hunted gazelles. They didn't rush. They didn't sprint. They simply walked toward it. Steadily. Briskly. And the gazelle? It would run, of course, but it wouldn't escape. The humans didn't stop. They just kept walking, never tiring, never giving up. Eventually, the gazelle would tire. And then they would strike. With a spear, or a weapon made of whatever was at hand—wood, bone, stone, or horn. Whatever they could use."

She leaned in a little closer, her golden eyes flickering with the same intensity that reflected in her panthress form. "Alexander, adapt. The field around you is alive with movement. Use the tall grass, use the wind, use your instincts. Focus on the rhythm of the hunt. That's where you'll find your answer."

I took a deep breath, her words echoing in my mind as the reality of the hunt set in. This wasn't just about catching a rabbit—it was about persistence, patience, and making use of everything at my disposal.

I turned my gaze out toward the field, the tall grass swaying gently in the breeze. Somewhere, hidden amongst the sea of green, the rabbit was out there. The wind shifted slightly, carrying with it the faint rustle of its movement.

Barbatos stepped back, her presence a fluid, confident shadow in the grass. She stood still, her golden eyes watching me with quiet expectation. I couldn't fail here—not now, not after everything.

I adjusted my stance. The ground beneath my feet felt solid, and I knew that if I was going to do this, I needed to move like her—patient, persistent. I took my first step, then another, keeping my movements deliberate, steady. I didn't rush. I didn't push.

And then, there it was—a flash of brown and white as the rabbit darted between the blades of grass, its tiny body moving with speed that made my pulse race. I could hear its heartbeat in my chest, the sound of its paws skittering across the ground. The hunt had begun.

I stalked forward, my focus narrowing on the rabbit. It was faster than I expected, bounding away in long, quick leaps. I adjusted my pace, staying just behind it, using the grass as cover. With each leap the rabbit took, I matched its rhythm, staying just a few paces behind, but never closing the gap.

The rabbit shifted direction, its body swerving, trying to throw me off course. I mirrored it again, keeping my movements as fluid as the wind itself. But the rabbit had one thing I didn't—it was smaller, quicker. I had to outthink it, outlast it.

Suddenly, the rabbit broke into a wild sprint, its legs pumping furiously as it sought an escape. It was moving fast, its body sleek and aerodynamic as it raced across the open field. My heart skipped a beat as I realized how far ahead it had gotten.

For a moment, doubt crept in, but I didn't allow it to take hold. This was my moment. I had to adapt, just like she said.

I pushed myself harder, my legs burning as I pushed through the thick grass, keeping my eyes locked on the rabbit. It was just ahead of me, darting in and out of sight. The wind picked up, the grass bending and swaying in waves, but I didn't slow down.

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The rabbit's movements were erratic, desperate. I could sense it tiring, but I couldn't let it escape now. I took one last glance at the field around me—this vast, open world filled with possibilities—and I saw my chance.

The rabbit made a sharp turn to its left, trying to angle for cover under a nearby clump of bushes. But it misjudged the angle, its legs catching on an uneven patch of ground. Its back end dropped awkwardly, and for just a split second, the rabbit lost its balance.

I surged forward. The grass blurred beneath my feet as I pounced, my arms reaching out. My fingers brushed against the rabbit's fur, and then, with one final, desperate grasp, I managed to catch its leg as it stumbled.

The impact threw me off balance, and for a moment, I thought I was going to tumble headfirst into the dirt. But I held on, pulling the rabbit to the ground with me in a heap of limbs and grass. The rabbit struggled beneath me, but it was exhausted, its body too tired to fight back.

I sat there for a moment, breathing heavily, my chest heaving as I looked at the small creature I had just caught. It stared back at me with wide, terrified eyes, its fur slick with, if I didn't know any better from the skill, sweat. It was a strange feeling—this victory over another living being, even if it was just a rabbit.

Barbatos's voice rang out behind me, filled with quiet satisfaction. "Well done, Alexander. You adapted, you persisted, and you didn't give up. That's the first step."

I exhaled, releasing the rabbit, and as I stood up, I wiped the dirt from my hands, feeling a strange mixture of accomplishment and unease.

"Next time," Barbatos added with a grin, "maybe try not to trip on your way to the kill. But I suppose we all have our moments."

***

Barbatos gave me a minute or so. Enough to sit up, dust myself off, and allow the rabbit to scurry off. While she had told me to hunt it, a hunt doesn't necessarily mean a kill. Sometimes, it's about the capture, the chase, and the choice to release. It's the pursuit that matters just as much as the outcome.

As the rabbit disappeared back into the grasses, I stood up slowly, brushing off the dirt from my legs and feeling the slight twinge of exhaustion in my muscles. The moment felt surreal. The wild, almost primal nature of the hunt still lingered in my body, but I knew better than to hold onto it too long. Barbatos was watching me, her golden eyes gleaming with the same predatory interest she always wore, but there was a softness in her gaze now, a subtle approval.

"Odd," she mused, her voice breaking the silence. "You think of me as Barbatos here, but you accept thinking of me as Barbra in my entirely human form."

I frowned, a little confused by her statement. "What's so odd about it? You're both the same... aren't you?"

Barbatos tilted her head, the slight smirk on her lips revealing a flicker of amusement. "You might think that, but it's different. Here, in this form, I am the Queen of Beasts. A power. A presence. Something… primal. Yet, when you see me as Barbra, it's more human. You're able to distance yourself. But it's also interesting that you still recognize me in my true form, even if you're… uncomfortable with it."

I shrugged, not entirely sure how to answer. I wasn't uncomfortable—more like I had an odd mixture of respect and, yes, attraction. It was hard to deny. She was captivating, even in this form.

"Why can everyone know my thoughts…" I grumbled under my breath, a little more agitated than I intended.

"Well, they're loud." Barbatos's voice was soft but amused. She didn't seem particularly bothered by it. "And in my case, I know what every being here is thinking. Instinctually, I can listen. Learn. Adapt. It's how I thrive in places like this. It's how I survive."

She took a step closer, her golden eyes never leaving mine. "Reminder, Alexander. Everything here is both predator and prey. I do mean everything."

I nodded, letting the weight of her words settle in. She wasn't just talking about the rabbit, or the animals I might face, or even myself. She was talking about everything—everything could be the hunter and the hunted in this place. Even her.

"Even you," I said quietly, looking up to meet her gaze, fully understanding what she was implying.

Barbatos let out a low, satisfied hum, her eyes flashing with approval. "This is why I love the scholarly types. They understand nuance. You're learning."

I gave her a small, reluctant grin. "You want me to keep calling you Barbra, don't you?"

She raised an eyebrow, the glint of a playful challenge in her gaze. "It's not just that I want it. It's the name I carried before my ascension as the Queen of Beasts. It's who I was. It's the name that suits me, before the crown and the title."

I felt a flicker of something unfamiliar in my chest, a subtle respect for the history and weight carried by the name. "Alright. Barbra," I said, testing the word on my tongue, and then added, "Your highness."

Her eyes narrowed slightly, and the playfulness in her expression shifted. "That's a real good way to get bitten. And not in the good way."

I blinked, caught off guard by her sudden shift. "I—what?"

She took a slow step forward, her presence even more imposing now, the air around her thick with the unmistakable aura of someone who could do far worse than just bite. "Careful, Alexander. Humility is one thing. But don't start calling me that in a tone you can't back up." She smiled then, sharp as a knife. "Unless you want me to remind you why I'm called the Queen of Beasts."

I gulped, feeling a rush of heat to my face. It wasn't the first time I'd been warned by her, but it definitely felt more real this time. "Noted," I muttered, still not sure if I was more flustered or just terrified.

Barbatos—or Barbra, as she now wanted to be called—chuckled softly, her sharp, predatory smile softening just enough for me to realize she was enjoying the moment, even if it was at my expense.

"You learn quickly," she said, turning away and taking a few steps back. "Now, remember the lesson. Persistence, patience, and a bit of creativity. You're getting the hang of it."

I exhaled deeply, unsure whether to be relieved or just keep my head down. Either way, I was getting a crash course in humility, persistence, and the subtle power that surrounded Barbra—power I had only just begun to understand.

"Okay. Barbra," I started, shifting uncomfortably, "I'm going to ask a bit of a personal question. And I really need to know the answer to this." I hesitated for a moment, trying to find the right words. "Why do I feel a… shall we say, 'heat' in regards to beastkin now?"

She didn't flinch, her golden eyes locking with mine with that same calm, almost knowing expression. I felt a prickle of heat rise to my face, the tension between us suddenly thickening. "Partly residual from the play," she replied smoothly, her voice low and measured. "I asked Danatallion for his copy, or what he has of it, so I can read how you performed. You didn't exactly hide your… reactions during that scene. That's part of it."

I could feel my face flush even more at her casual mention of the play. I had been distracted by more than I should've been, but that wasn't the only thing weighing on me now.

She took a step closer, her feline grace making each movement feel deliberate, calculated. "The other part is instinct," she continued, her gaze softening just slightly, as if she were letting me in on a secret. "You, Alexander, are evolving. Each time you step through a soul realm, you become a little more beastkin. Your body is already responding to that. Your biology, your senses, even your desires—they're all changing."

She paused, letting the words hang in the air. I tried to process them, but it didn't make it any easier when she was standing so close, her presence overwhelming.

"And finally," Barbra added with a slight smirk tugging at her lips, "you're you. You've never exactly been… shall we say, 'hidden' when it comes to your desires."

I raised an eyebrow at that, feeling a mix of unease and embarrassment. "What do you mean by that?"

She chuckled softly, clearly enjoying the discomfort she was stirring in me. "I mean that you've always wanted someone with soft skin, someone with wit, charm, and some intensity. And, whether it's the dominant or submissive side of you that craves it, a beastkin happens to fit all those criteria perfectly. We're strong, agile, alluring in our own way. And most importantly…" She leaned in just a little closer, her breath warm on my skin. "We know how to take control when it's needed."

I stood frozen for a moment, processing her words. Part of me wanted to argue, to say that it wasn't that simple. But another part of me, one I hadn't fully acknowledged until now, knew she was right. The attraction I felt, the heat that swelled whenever I was around her or others like her—it wasn't just about their beauty. It was something deeper, something I hadn't quite understood. It was instinct—and possibly desire, in ways I wasn't ready to admit.

Barbra watched me for a moment, her expression not one of judgment but of understanding, as if she knew the war that was silently raging inside my mind. "It's okay to feel it, Alexander. We all have our instincts. What matters is what you choose to do with them."

I swallowed, trying to steady myself. "So, I'm biologically wired to find beastkin… alluring?" I asked, unsure whether I was more curious or just trying to make sense of my own reactions.

She gave a small, knowing smile. "Yes. And it's only going to become more pronounced as you continue your journey. But don't worry," she added, her tone turning teasing once more. "I'm sure you'll find a way to deal with it. After all, you did just catch a rabbit. I'm confident that's a good start."

Her words felt like an invitation and a challenge all at once. I wasn't sure if I was ready to face whatever was coming next—both the beastkin side of me and the strange attraction I was feeling—but I knew this was just the beginning. A new chapter, with its own set of complications.

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