Duck Lake reality is a lovely place.

09/06: I'm gonna edit in a conclusion and archive this.

Ironically, Turquoise did not have the patience for Lake's hypothesizing, despite being the one to start him on the subject. While he talked and talked and talked, she began to fidget and she rolled her eyes once or twice. Shut up, shut up, shut up, she found herself thinking, not actually interested in the reasoning behind his affinity for lakes, after all.

Finally, he seemed to be done talking. Turq had the impression that he'd made a joke and she should laugh, yet she couldn't even will herself to play back that part of the conversation in order to process it. The one thing she had heard during that long ramble was that he hadn't been named until after his eyes had finished transitioning, which meant he'd been nameless for the first three plus months of his life.

"You didn't even have a name until you were three months old?" she asked incredulously, effectively ignoring everything else he'd said. "What the hell did your parents call you until then?" she wanted to know.

She hung around just long enough for Lake to explain the pros and cons of going through early childhood essentially nameless. Turquoise then seemed to grow either bored or fed up with the conversation. Rather abruptly, she started to depart, with the excuse that she needed to get her bearings. Turq then loped away directly, heading neither in the direction of home nor toward any other particular destination at the moment—just anywhere that was away from him, or anyone else, for that matter.