((Haha that's crazy Luke, dreams are so weird...I've been having very cinematic dreams lately, like one about Titanic and another one about World War II/Vietnam...yet somehow my family makes their way into them and I get this feeling that it's just not real...like, Mom, quit showing up in the middle of Normandy, I'll empty the dishwasher later! XD Yeah, I guess I do occasionally have alien rebeltasticness on the brain, lol...I wonder why??))
Myitt finishes preparing the pool and tosses the empty packets into her backpack, which is quickly becoming filled with trash. Little bits of greyish sand scatter here and there on the pale cabin table. She uses the wand device to mix the solution into a greyish sludge, and turns on one of the tiny portable Kandrona generators, setting it inside. The cabin is suddenly alive with static and a strange electrical odor, not unpleasant.
She exhales deeply and nods, wiping her hand off on her black jacket. "You're right. This isn't completely crazy, and we're all going to be fine." She flexes and unflexes her fingers. "Completely and totally...fine."
<Don't worry, man. We've got it covered,> says Tara.
<I hope so, I don't want you to come back dead. What use would you be to me, then?>
<Aww. You're so sweet.>
<Just don't get shot, please. I mean it.>
She leans her head over the little pool and disengages from her host, slithering into the water like a strange, tentacled grey-green amoeba before splashing under the surface and reforming into the natural sluglike Yeerk shape. The whole process takes a few minutes, but finally Tara looks up and idly dries her ear with a sleeve.
"So," says Tara, looking at the Andalites and grinning exactly like Myitt. She pulls out her Dracon and checks it. "Let's get this show on the road."