Later that night, after Sarah had gone to bed, Greg was pacing around the room, still wide awake, as usual, a little, slightly, absolutely bored. He sat down at the table to play solitaire, but gave up after a few moves, banging his head on the table in frustration. There just wasn't any challenge in it. Without someone to play against, he just couldn't do it. He glanced at the remains of the books lying in the corner, before tossing that idea out. He'd be entertained for a bit, but the frustration of not knowing how the story goes would be even worse than the boredom.

*What to do, what to do.* Greg thought to himself, getting up to pace again. He sighed, wishing he had some cool ability he could spend his time training instead of this stupid ability that just worked. He healed automatically and all he had to do to transform was think about it! He could probably learn how to fight or something, but right now Sarah definitely wasn't going to teach him, and it wasn't like he had a sparring partner. What, was he just going to run outside and try to pick a fight with a feral?

Greg paused. *That… actually isn't a terrible idea.* He mulled the thought over in his mind, considering it more and more. It wasn't like he was doing anything to protect Sarah by staying in the bunker. As long as he was around when people would show up, he'd be good, right? After sunset, no one would risk being out and about when ferals with better senses were around. As long as he left after it was dark, and returned once the sun rose, he'd be fine, right? Once the idea set in, Greg couldn't get rid of it, and soon he was stripping off his pants and easing the door open as quietly as he could, slipping outside, before transforming into his feral form.

Now that he had the time to study it, Greg noticed some familiar features in his feral form. His skin was rough, like a shark's, and his arm hung down to his knees. He didn't have a mirror to be completely sure, but this new form seemed to be awfully close to the appearance of the sharkman. *That's weird… Why would I look like him?* Greg thought to himself. He thought about it and thought about it, but the only connection he could see was the fact that he used his arm regenerating to kill him. *Maybe… maybe somehow I like, absorbed his DNA by doing that? Does that mean I can transform into dirt too?*

Not a second later, he became a pile of dirt, lying in the middle of the street, before quickly turning back into his human form, breathing heavily. "Oh, god that was weird." He muttered with a shiver. He'd been dirt, but he could still think. He was aware of each part of himself, completely conscious of the fact that pieces of his body were no longer connected to each other. He tried to scream, but couldn't. He lacked vocal cords. For that interminable second, all he'd been was thoughts and dirt.

After a few deep breaths, Greg pulled himself back together. *Okay, moving on.* He shook his head, transforming back into the sharkman, striding towards a nearby three story apartment building. He jumped about halfway up the wall, before piercing his claws into it, quickly climbing the rest of the way. He pulled himself up to the roof, looking around. He hadn't really noticed before, but in this form, he seemed to be able to pick up on heat along with the normal visual spectrum. Anything with heat shown red, and the hotter it was, the brighter red it got. The reason his vision had turned red was because he was using both at the same time, but he could switch to one or the other, getting rid of the tint or turning his vision completely red.

He surveyed the streets below using his heat vision, noticing faint traces from where something had recently passed, leaving red dots he could barely notice from where he stood on the roof. He only really saw them because they stood out among the cool blackness that the road had become in the cool night air. Greg considered for a moment, before leaping off the roof towards the nearest traces, following behind them. Now that he was closer, the footsteps stood out clearly, getting brighter and clearer as he followed them, gaining on the creature who had left them.

It only took a few minutes for Greg to let eyes on the creature. It was a smaller feral, covered in fur, with thin sharp claws tipping each finger. It had also grown a tail which swayed lazily behind it as it walked. Honestly, the moment Greg laid eyes on it, he thought he was seeing a dedicated furry, rather than a feral. She looked just like a cat girl.

Shaking his head, Greg began to sneak up on it, before pausing. *Wait, I'm here to fight, not to ambush.* He chided himself as he boldly strode forward, letting out a mighty roar as he approached the cat girl.

The cat girl's fur stood on end as she whirled around, hissing and brandishing her claws. However, the moment she caught sight of the hulking brute approaching her, her eyes went wide and she let out a whimper, skittering backwards. "W-what do you wish from me, mighty one?" She mewled in a surprisingly soft voice.

Greg paused, stunned. "Rah rah rah? Rah. Rah rah." Greg transformed back into his human form. "You can talk?" He asked incredulously. "Can all ferals talk? No, that can't be true… sharky definitely couldn't talk. Though… maybe he could have if he hadn't mutated in such a way…"

The cat girl cocked her head curiously, approaching Greg hesitantly, sniffing at him. "You- you are one of the unformed? No… you do not carry their scent. Strange… you seem to carry no scent!" She paced around him, studying him intently, making Greg feel rather awkward, particularly since he was currently buck naked. "Why do you have two forms and no scent, strange one?" She asked curiously.

"I- I don't… hold on, how are you even able to talk!?!" Greg shook his head, reiterating his question.

"How are you able to talk?" The cat girl retorted with a cheeky grin.

Greg paused. "Well, vocal cords, but I see your point… fine, how did you learn to talk?"

The cat girl shrugged. "When my mind awoke, so did my voice. The words simply came to me as I needed them."

"Interesting… Can others like you talk as well?" Greg asked.

"Some can, some cannot. Most can at least understand. Whether they care or not is a different question." The cat girl explained, still pacing around Greg and studying him. "May you answer my queries now, strange one?"

"Well… not easily… I have no idea about the scent thing. Didn't even care to notice I don't smell, you know? As for the two forms… well, you see, I have this ability that lets me heal from essentially anything, and- Ow!" Greg yelped as the cat girl scratched him, watching in fascination as the smoke burst out, before shooting back, and the wound disappeared. "Don't do that!" Greg growled, giving her a harsh glare.

The cat girl shrunk back as she remembered his previous form, which combined with his healing ability would make him a terrifying opponent. "I-I apologize, great one! I-I was simply curious!"

Greg gave her a look before sighing and shaking his head. "Anyways, as I was saying, when I heal like that, say after losing a limb, anything in the way gets… dissolved. I used it to kill a sharkm- er, someone who looked like I did previously, and now it seems I can turn into him." Greg finished, realizing it was actually easier to explain than he'd thought it'd be. "Anyways, tell me about these… unformed you were talking about."

"The unformed are those who do not accept the change, retaining their weak and helpless bodies, but using strange magics to threaten us." The cat girl replied with a frown. "They travel the world, causing death and chaos for no reason as they fight against the natural order! Only the mightiest of us can face them during the day, while the rest must hide, hoping they do not discover our homes. Only at night are we free to do as we please."

Greg frowned. "Well… that's a different perspective… kinda makes me feel like a dick for coming out here to try and start a fight."

"Y-you wish to fight?!?" The cat girl exclaimed in horror, jumping back and cowering against a wall.

Greg shook his head. "Not anymore. At least, not with you… actually, do you know any strong ones around who are just complete and utter assholes? Like they push others around, keep women captive, shit like that?" He couldn't imagine the ferals were out here, living some idyllic life if it weren't for humans. They had to have their assholes, just like humans did, like the sharkman. No matter how you sliced it, he abused women in horrible ways. No matter what, that deserves some retribution. If the cat girl knew others like that, Greg had no issue delivering said retribution.

"I'm guessing that's them." Greg muttered. He was crouching at the edge of a roof as he watched two ferals who seemed to have taken their templates from hyenas tormenting a lizardman. One of the two seemed to have some sort of ice ability, coating the ground in it as they watched the poor dude slip and fall as he scrambled around. If he ever stopped, the other feral would shoot needles at him, causing him to yelp in pain until he began to scramble again.

"Yes… it is fortunate this one is male. When they capture a female, their games become much, much worse." The car girl growled as she glared daggers at the two, gritting her teeth as she watched them laugh over the other's helplessness. She then turned to look at Greg with concern. "You believe you can face them? They have access to strange magics, like the unformed."

Greg shrugged. "Eh, who knows? At least I won't die, right? And it'll give that poor sap a chance to get away." Then, without further ado, he leapt off the building, turning into the sharkman mid leap and landing in a poof of smoke, before striding forward, releasing his savage roar.

The two bullies were startled, whirling on Greg and releasing roars of their own. "Who are you!?! Why do you disturb our games?" The feral with the ice ability snarled threateningly, baring his teeth.

"Rah rah rah!" Greg tried to talk, forgetting he couldn't quite manage it in this form. He growled, tapping his jaw, shrugging apologetically. He then put up his hands, making an obvious 'let's fight' motion.

The other two stood there awkwardly, confused. This creature approached them violently, then waited for them to fight? Why did he not just attack them? Were they supposed to attack him? The two shared a weird look, before turning back. "We- can we discuss this? You are obviously mighty, but we are not weak ourselves. Instead of a brutal fight that will leave all of us injured, maybe we can come to some sort of understanding?"

Greg groaned as he changed back into human form. "You guys are assholes. I don't appreciate how you treat those weaker than you. Also, I heal, so I lose nothing by fighting you, so let's go!" He explained, before shifting back, rushing at them.

"Wait, wait!" The two backed off in fright, holding their hands up. "This is unnecessary! We can change! There's no need to resort to violence!"

Greg paused, staring at the cowering ferals in disbelief. *What the fuck! Am I really that scary?* He asked himself, frowning as he looked at his hands. He sighed and transformed back into his human form. "The fuck guys? Don't you enjoy torturing people for fun and fighting? Why are you suddenly turning into giant wimps?"

"Torture?" The needle feral cocked his head in confusion. "We never torture anyone! All we do is play games! They're harmless!" He protested, shaking his head vigorously.

"Harmless? Really? Does he look like he's having fun!?!" Greg exclaimed, gesturing at the guy who was still attempting to scramble off the ice.

"W-we were just using him for a bit of entertainment! He isn't getting really hurt and we get to laugh for a few hours. There's no real harm in it!" The ice feral explained.

"Oh? And what if you'd found a girl instead?" Greg asked, raising an eyebrow.

"A female?" The ice feral asked in confusion.

"We would mate with her, yes?" The needle feral answered hesitantly.

"Yes, that is just what you do when you find a female, yes?" The ice feral nodded along.

"No! Fucking hell, you guys… you can't just do things to people! You have to ask permission before you mate with a girl! You can't just play with someone else for your own amusement!" Greg shouted at them in frustration.

The two looked at each other in complete confusion, before looking back at Greg. "Why not?"

"Because… okay look, how would you feel if I, say, tied you up by your ankles, dangling you over the edge of a building, upside down, watching you struggle, huh? Would you enjoy that? Would you think it was fun even if I let you go afterwards?" Greg asked them. The two shook their heads. "So why would you think it was okay when you do it to someone else!"

The needle feral scratched his head, before answering tentatively. "They are not us?"

Greg frowned at him, transforming into his sharkman form and whapping him on the head, before turning back. "Try again."

The needle feral rubbed his aching head with a groan, while the ice feral looked deep in thought. Eventually he shook his head. "I do not know why it would be okay to do it to someone else."

"Exactly! It isn't okay, you see?" Greg explained. "If you wouldn't want someone to do something to you, you shouldn't go around doing it to other people! That's why you don't make some poor dude struggle on ice while shooting needles at him! That's why you don't force girls to mate with you!"

They were both nodding along until the last part, where they frowned. "But… I would want a female to mate with me… why would it be wrong to mate with her?" The needle feral asked, confused.

Greg shook his head, sighing. "It isn't about the mating, it's about what the girl wants. If she doesn't want to mate with you, you can't force her. Would you like it if someone forced you to do something you didn't want to do? You have to ask permission first."

"Permission?" The ice feral muttered, as if the word was foreign to him.

"Yes. You ask them if they want to mate with you, and you only get to do so if they say yes." Greg explained. "In fact, this goes for pretty much anything. If you want to do something to someone else, you have to ask them if they want you to do it first. Make sense?" The two nodded slowly as they mulled his words over. They were like toddlers, completely ignorant of the idea that other people had feelings as well. Everything Greg had said was like a revelation to them, a whole new world of thought. "Good. Now, get rid of this ice and apologize to him." Greg ordered, pointing at the struggling feral.

The ice feral nodded, waving his hand, causing the ice to melt away. "We apologize for acting against your will." He stated with a slight bow, but the feral who'd been struggling didn't seem to be one of the intelligent ones, so he just hissed and scampered away.

Greg nodded. "Alright, good. Just keep that up, and I won't have issues with you anymore, alright?"

"What is going on? Mighty one, why are you not fighting them?" The cat girl asked, approaching hesitantly from behind, her eyes shooting daggers at the other two.

"Brother, it's the slippery one!" The needle feral exclaimed, looking at the cat girl with hungry eyes.

The ice feral frowned at him, smacking him upside the head. "Idiot! What did you just learn?"

The needle feral paused, frowning before his expression brightened, and he approached the cat girl with a smile. "Slippery one, would you like to mate with me?" He asked with an ingratiating smile.

The cat girl backed away, looking at him incredulously. "No!"

The needle feral sighed, clicking his tongue. "Drat." He turned, looking at the ice feral. "Brother, it is your turn."

The ice feral nodded, swaggering towards the cat girl, as if trying to exhibit all his charm. "Would you like to mate with me?" He asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

"No!!!" The cat girl yelled again, even more vehemently. She turned to Greg. "Mighty one, what did you do to them?"

Greg scratched his head, thinking about it, before shrugging. "I just taught them the basic principles of common decency."

Once he finished with the bully brothers, Greg followed the cat girl to the next asshole on her list. "Okay, now, what's the deal with this next guy?" Greg asked as they traveled. "He isn't just another brute with no concept of empathy, is he?"

The cat girl shook her head. "No. The other two are- er, were mean, but they never truly harmed anyone. They simply made whoever they caught suffer until they were satisfied. Cruel, but not merciless. This one… he-he never lets you go. Once you're in his grasp, you either find a way to escape, or you die."

"So, there's no chance of me going in for a fight and ending up in a conversation on morals again, right?" Greg asked skeptically.

"I-I do not believe so? I did not expect such a thing to occur with the other two though, so… I can't be certain." The cat girl explained, seeming slightly embarrassed.

"Fair enough." Greg sighed. They quickly made their way towards a one story, but sprawling house, including a decent sized yard, taking up a large area. "Damn! Who lived here before everything went down? This place is nice!" Greg commented in appreciation as he looked it over.

"Do you wish to have it for yourself?" The cat girl asked curiously. "Once you defeat the one inside, it could be yours."

"That's… actually kind of tempting." Greg muttered. "Eh, we'll see." He shrugged, striding towards the door. He transformed, kicking it in and releasing his roar. From within the house, another, equally threatening roar came, thumping footsteps echoing through the halls as something large dashed through the halls. The cat girl quickly hid in some nearby bushes as from the depths of the house emerged a feral almost as large as Greg. Hard scales covered it and a long, powerful tail swung behind, a viscous spike on the tip. One hand bore savage claws, while the other was a large pincer. His face had grown a pair of mandibles, while his mouth was full of serrated teeth. It looked like some sort of savage mix between a crocodile and a scorpion. "Rah rah rah…" Greg muttered in horror as the feral tackled him, instantly striking him with its tail. Its pincer got a grip on his neck and its claws dug into his stomach.

Greg roared in pain, snapping at the ferals approaching mandibles, biting one off as his claws swung to dig savage furrows into its back. The feral roared back, not only from the pain of losing a mandible, but also from the claws that had dissolved after Greg's stomach had healed. It glared at Greg viscously, tail striking like lightning, causing Greg pain, but little else as his claws continued to deal massive amounts of damage to it, shedding through the scales like a knife through steak.

The feral recognized it was in a losing position, and with a final, desperate roar, it put all its strength into its pincer, savagely cutting through Greg's neck, sending his head flying! The feral roared in celebration as Greg's head tumbled through the air, before suddenly, his body dissolved into smoke, billowing towards him and reforming into his body! Greg flipped right side up and landed gracefully, shooting the stunned feral an evil grin as he rush back in, claws swinging, each swipe leaving savage red lines across the the ferals body, blood flowing from the wounds as the feral desperately tried to fight back, but nothing he did could keep Greg down. Finally, with one last viscous strike, Greg plunged his claws deep into the feral's chest, and the light in its eyes died.

Greg stared at the now dead feral with a thoughtful expression, before swiping a claw across his arm, cutting it off, and placing the stump against its head, allowing it to regenerate through it. "Why did you do that?" The cat girl asked as he emerged from the foliage, giving Greg a strange look. She was glad she hadn't tried to fight or escape this brutal creature…

Greg shifted into his human form, grinning at her. "I thought it'd be nice to have another combat form." Greg shifted into the feral's form. "See? Oh! Ha! I can talk in this one too!" He exclaimed giddily in a deep, growly voice, before coughing slightly and continuing to explain. "Honestly, if it weren't for my healing factor, it would have had me dead to rights. Its tail and claws could easily pierce through my skin, while my claws had to work to break through its scales… plus the fact that that pincer literally took my head off… I dunno, it just seems like a better form."

The cat girl nodded. "I can see that, but… didn't his claws already dissolve in your stomach? Shouldn't that have been all you needed?" She asked, pointing at the feral's hand.

Greg looked down in surprise, blinking slightly. "Well… if you're going to bring logic into this…" Greg muttered, coughing slightly in embarrassment. "Uh, let's explore the house, huh?" He quickly stomped off into the building, changing the subject, leaving the cat girl snickering slightly as she followed him with a bemused expression. This mighty one was such an interesting individual.

As Greg walked, he took note of the abilities of this new form. Unlike the sharkman, the scorpocroc didn't have heat vision. Instead, it seemed to have enhanced hearing, allowing him to almost see through walls based on the noises within, the little variations in how the noise propagated giving him vague outlines. As he walked, he instinctively clicked his mandibles a few times, sending pulses of sound that outlined the area around him, like a sonar. It was lucky for the cat girl he'd won, because the scorpocroc had definitely known she was there. He wasn't even looking at her, and he could tell exactly where she was just by her heartbeat and breathing. *Fucking hell, no wonder everyone is terrified of the night if these are the types of abilities ferals can have! How do you even hide from this?!?* Greg thought to himself, shaking his head.

It didn't take long for them to find the remains of the scorpocroc's handiwork. Corpses with their hands and feet snipped off, signs of slow torture on the rest of their body, both human and feral. There were signs of cauterizing on most of the wounds, making Greg wonder if the scorpocroc had some sort of heating ability that'd never come up in their fight. After the first room, Greg had to close his eyes, maneuvering just by echolocation. A lot of the horror was lost in the simplicity of sound. Eventually they made it to one of the deeper rooms and found the scorpocroc's latest victim, a male feral who the scorpocroc seemed to be busy skinning before they arrived. In the time it took for them to fight and go through the house, the feral had already died.

With blank expressions, after they'd confirmed there were no other survivors, the two of them exited the house. They stood in silence for a moment, before Greg turned to the cat girl. "Is there anyone else out there who does stuff like that?" The cat girl nodded dumbly, still trying to process the horror of what she'd seen. She'd known awful stuff had happened in this house, but she had never imagined it was at that level. "Take me to them." Greg growled with a hard expression, clenching his hands- er, claw and pincer. "I have work to do."