Bree found herself spending more time with Beasley than she had with basically anyone else. She would visit him every day and even though he was reluctant about her frequency, she couldn't help her interest in him. She persuaded him into telling her everything about him. Well, not everything - just the juicy bits.

He explained that he did not know what kind of animal he was but that he was the only one of his kind. He also explained that the maps in his cave were places he'd been to and that he had the ability to jump from place to place through the forest as long as he knew where he was going.

He had arrived in Maine three weeks before Bree began working in the pen. He hadn't been able to find the pigs until Bree started working (there was no explanation for that).

"Gee, such great timing." Bree said dryly.

He confessed that he could only remember arriving in London and had stayed there for two years then moved to Pennsylvania where he stayed for only a year and half. After then, he stopped keeping track of how long he stayed in a place, he just moved.

"You've really been to Thailand?" Bree asked.

"I think so. I don't remember which one it is." Beasley said scratching the back of his neck.

He was named Beasley by a group of hunters he'd come across in Townsend. They spotted him when he was scavenging for food and had tried to capture him for a King Kong special. Bree admitted that he definitely would've given those hunters a run for their money - King Kong couldn't talk and did not have disappearing footprints.

"They said i was a beast of prey." Beasley explained.

"What does that mean?" Bree asked crossing one leg over the other.

"It means i eat vertebrates, anything with a backbone." He said. Bree had made a fire for him with her blowtorch seeing how cold the cave was and he hadn't stopped poking at it with a wooden stick from the pile next to him.

She subconsciously touched her back. She had backbones too. Beasley noticed her discomfort and corrected that he only ever ate pigs, wild rice, carp and rats.

"What? You eat rats?" Bree asked scrunching up her nose.

"In the past." He muttered but it sounded more like a loud grumble.

"So, you don't remember where you're from?" Bree asked.

"No." He replied still poking at the flames.

"It's probably a place where stop means continue because clearly you don't want to continue poking that fire."

Beasley let the stick drop for a count of six seconds then quickly picked it up as if on impulse and continued poking the fire.

Bree squinted her eyes to look at him. His claws were long and so sharp that they could pass as kitchen knives. He would constantly sway gently to the side as if dozing off then aggressively poke the fire again.

"Are you ADHD?" She asked.

"What?" He asked and looked up. He hadn't revealed his eyes since their snow fight which he kept on claiming he'd won.

"ADHD? Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, do you have that?"

"What is it? Some tool?" He asked shoving the burnt stick into the fire and then picked up a new one to poke it with.

"No, it's a disorder that makes people unable to pay attention and do stuff on impulse."

"I'm very attentive." Beasley said.

"Oh yeah, what's my name?"

He paused and looked up at her. She was staring at him with a hidden smile as if she knew everything in the world, including the fact that he had forgotten her name. She was calm, looking straight at him with large black eyeballs that looked like she was going to sleep off any minute.

She was beautiful in a delicate yet unapologetic kind of way. She had shoulder length brown hair that was always held in a low ponytail. Her face was near pink and smooth like polished marble. Whenever she laughed or smiled, her upper lip only moved about an inch revealing pearly white teeth that reminded him of a house he'd come across in Italy.

She was noticeably small and could pass as a teenager. He noticed how she carried a square like device with her that she would always place on her ear and speak into. He was scared to ask what it was but whatever it might be, it seemed to hold a lot of information and it made him anxious. What if she was telling people about him? He doubted it. She wasn't interested in putting up a King Kong special, whatever that was.

He already liked her and looked forward to seeing her everyday. The first day they'd met, she claimed he had tried to kill her but he could not remember all that happened. She was no longer scared of him and that scared him, although she had once admitted to being frightened whenever he spoke since animals were not supposed to talk. He agreed with her on that and attempted to talk less but she was full of questions that made it impossible for him to keep shut.

She already treated him like a person and it made him very nervous. She would occasionally touch his fur without flinching or try to make him open his eyes. He could see clearly through his bushy eyebrows. It was almost like looking through a transparent curtain or some tinted glass. He could see her but she couldn't see him.

"So, you don't remember my name?" She asked and let her head drop. He almost kicked himself. She had introduced herself when she first came to his cave but he had barely payed attention.

"Is it Giovanna?" He asked.

"What, no!" Bree asked laughing. "What kind of name is that?"

"So it's not that one. Is it Jane?"

"Nice name but nope." She replied shaking her head.

He tried to concentrate on the day she'd put an arrow through his shoulder - he recalled that bit. She had looked very deadly and he wanted to defend himself by all means until she suddenly decided to stop shooting at him and stare at his map on the ground. He had a pretty good photographic memory but had trouble remembering little things.

"But i just got here. My name is ___ and i guess yours is Beasley, isn't it?"

He almost snapped. He really wasn't paying attention to when she'd said her name. Maybe he was ABCD or whatever she had called him.

"Do you want to keep guessing?" She asked with a smile as if they were playing guessing games.

"Is it Lily?"

"No."

"Anne?"

"A little close but no."

"Is it Dorothy then?" He asked hopeful that he was correct but she shook her head in disapproval. He did not quite understand what she found funny because she hadn't stopped laughing at his guesses. Maybe she laughed at how ugly he was. He shook off the thought.

"Can you give me a clue?" He asked.

She took one of the sticks and began to draw on the snow. He went to stand behind her to look at what she was doing. A very pleasant smell always hung about her and he resisted the urge to inhale deeply. When she was done, she moved out of the way and tapped the drawing with her stick.

He examined it and frowned which did not look pretty on him. She had drawn a really big tree. "Your name is tree?"

She laughed again. She would always touch her forehead when she did. "No, it's not tree. Change the letter t into a b."

"Bree."

"Correct. My name is Bree." She said proudly and handed him the stick. He wondered if she had forgotten he would just poke the fire with it but he took it anyway.

"What does it mean?" He asked involuntarily shoving the stick toward the flames.

"My name? It's short for Brianna and i think it means fire."

"Fire? Are you joking?" He asked and stopped poking at the flames. Maybe when that died down, he could poke at her since she was literally fire too.

"I'm not sure. I mean i only think it means fire. I don't know what it really means." She shrugged.

It was past midnight and he wondered if she realized that. He did not want to make it seem like he was chasing her away and at the same time, he did not want her to stay. His cave was too cold and the fire wouldn't stay on for long. She would freeze before morning. Even with his massive fur coat, he still found it hard to stay warm.

"It probably means. . ."

"If you say it probably means wasp, i will drop a cockroach on you." Bree said raising an eyebrow.

"How did you know i was going to say that?" He asked throwing the stick away but this time, he did not pick up another one.

"You were thinking it, i know you were." She said folding her arms. It was almost like a power move and whenever she did it, he felt bullied like what she had said was final and should not be opposed.

"Alright, i was thinking it." He admitted and she gave a loud 'Aha'.

"I got you twice." She smiled and laid down.

"You should go home." Beasley said and stood up.

"Why?" Bree asked sitting up. She was having fun and he was about to ruin it - as usual.

"It's getting very late. You can't stay here. The temperature drops toward morning. You could freeze." He explained.

"Then how come you haven't frozen over?" She asked crossing her arm again.

"Because i can bear the cold." He answered. "And i have a fur coat."

"I have a fur coat too." Bree said.

"Where is it?" He asked.

"Back at home, in my closet. It's not even mine. I can't remember who owns it, maybe my mother but she just lets me borrow it when it gets cold although it is not what fur coats are for and when she bought it i honestly thought she was going for a red carpet event but we didn't have any blankets. . . "

Beasley watched her as she talked. She could be a motor mouth when she wasn't asking questions. She kept rambling on about her mother and it made him miss his. The last thing he wanted was to break down over the thought of never seeing her again.

He recalled how worried she always looked when he came back home with bruises and how she would always snap because she was afraid he was hurt. Despite it, she did a better job at keeping calm than the rest of the family especially his grandmother.

He gave a sad sigh and it caught Bree's attention. She stopped talking and looked up at him with one hand stuck in her bag. He waited for her to bombard him with questions as to why he had made that sad noise but she rolled her eyes instead. He realized she had been telling him something and he had zoned out.

"What?" He asked.

"You clearly don't have any form of entertainment here. I'm sure it gets boring. What do you do for fun, Beasley?"

Beasley chose his next words carefully. "Uh, i fish and sometimes run cross country."

"You mean that literally, right cause you literally can run from country to country." She stated and he nodded making his head look like it was about to fall off. "Is that all?"

He thought about the things he'd done for fun since he became a beast of prey. "I enjoy climbing and i can throw stuff at really long distances."

"Whoa!" Bree exclaimed with both arms raised. "You mean to tell me, that if you threw a firework all the way to Florida, people would see it?"

"Uh, i guess so." Beasley replied.

Bree gasped and picked up a huge stick from the pile and set it on fire. "Throw this all the way to the farmhouse."

"Are you sure?" Beasley asked. The last time he'd thrown a burning rag, a whole vegetation had gone up in flames.

"it'd be cool, come on." Bree urged in excitement.

He accepted the stick and they both went outside. He stood on his feet and leaned back then flung the stick. Bree watched it tumble in the air like a meteor. The fire continued burning until the stick went dark and she could no longer see it.

"It'll be there in the morning, won't it?" Bree asked still looking in the direction the stick had gone as though it might boomerang.

"Yes and hopefully, nothing goes up in flames this time." Beasley said.

Bree's head turned to him. "This time? You've done this before. That is so cool."

"What does cool mean?" Beasley asked walking back into the cave.

"It's a term people use when something is acceptable." Bree explained.

"So why not just say that its acceptable?" He asked.

"Because that's long and uncool." Bree said.

"I had no idea vocabulary can get so complicated." Beasley sighed.

********

Bree woke up with her teeth chattering uncontrollably. Tiny icicles had formed on her arms and neck. She struggled to stand but her entire form had gone stiff. She suddenly felt remorse for freezing chicken once.

She looked around and realized she was still in Beasley's cave. There was a stack of hay under her that had managed to keep one side of her body warm. She sat up and shook the icicles off. She couldn't remember falling asleep or even climbing into a stack of hay to fall asleep. She could only recall teaching Beasley to play charades and reading the Little Mermaid afterwards.

She had been quite shocked at how he knew how to read accurately. He had also been pretty adamant on looking for Ariel in any ocean he came across despite Bree constantly reminding him that she was just a fairytale.

She wiped her eyes and stood up, walking towards the campfire that was now a pile of charcoal and wood. They had burnt so much wood that would've been enough to build a quarter of the Pendulum.

Beasley was nowhere in sight and Bree wondered if he was on the roof. Suddenly, the sound of something scurrying in the snow made her turn. A giant rat came bounding into the cave.

"Ahh!" Bree screamed and ran towards the hay. The rat was hysterically running around the cave looking for a place to hide. Beasley suddenly dashed into the cave.

"Where'd it go?" He asked frantically whipping his head.

"There." Bree pointed. Beasley did not waste any time. He leaped towards the rodent and buried it in his giant paws, causing the cave to rumble. Bree feared he might've flattened his prey but he suddenly lifted the rat by its tail.

Bree had an uncomfortable flashback of when Beasley had held her upside down. Was that how he held all his meals? She suddenly felt queasy.

"Where'd you get a rat?" She asked behind down to pick up her bag, her gaze transfixed on the rodent.

"unlucky fella." Beasley mumbled. The rat continued to squirm but Beasley's grip was stronger than industrial glue.

"I have to go home now. I'll come back later. Bon appetit." Bree said walking past them to avoid the rodent. She was rather very anxious when it came to rats.

Beasley turned to look at her. "You know French?"

"Well, it's literally an English phrase nowadays." She said and waved goodbye then bolted out the cave with a yelp.

"wasp." Beasley muttered.

The forest was cold but not as cold as the cave and Bree wondered where all the wild animals had gone. Beasley had revealed they did not always stay at a place for long so sometimes the forest was literally empty which was why most hunters came back without any catches whatsoever. It was also the same reason why he came to the pen to take pigs.

It was a Thursday and Bree couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. Something she usually did but had forgotten. She tried hard to remember but the memory kept slipping out of reach.

"This is weird." She exclaimed as she trudged past a muddy pool.

She had been visiting Beasley everyday for almost two weeks. She hadn't called back to tell Bruno she would like to resume work at the pen. Amy had been open for a while now and she hadn't gone back either.

She had lost the enthusiasm to work. It was almost like she had forgotten why she worked in the first place.

Whenever she went into Beasley's cave, her memories seemed to stay behind. They would only come back in fuzzy bits and sometimes she got certain facts about herself all twisted. She had told Beasley she went to high school in Scotland even though she did not remember going to Scotland at all but something about going to school in Scotland felt right. It was probably something she had said or heard but couldn't remember where she'd gotten the information from.

She walked on until the clover patches came to view. The burnt stick Beasley had thrown was right there on the ground, a few yards to the back of the Pendulum. She had to admit that it was indeed a good throw. Maybe she could talk Beasley into throwing Ed all the way to Afghanistan.

She walked on towards the pen and stared at the pigs. Some had fallen asleep while some were lounging quietly in the mud. The horse was outside, chewing on hay.

Bree walked up to it and it neighed. "Hey uh. . ." She knew its name, it was right there in her head but almost impossible to grasp.

". . . Allen. That's your name, isn't it?" Bree asked the horse in confusion.

Something was happening to her and she suspected so but had no idea what it was. Something that definitely wasn't good. Bree turned and looked down.

"Your name isn't Allen. It's. . ." she muttered still trying to remember. It bothered her that she could not.

She stared at the horse. It neighed and brushed against her face. She knew she was friends with it and that she'd rode it a number of times. It had joined her to search for the missing pigs.

"Jonas. Yes, your name is Jonas." She said snapping her fingers.

Still, there was something important she was missing. An activity she was supposed to be doing over the past few weeks.

She needed a major reality check. She took a cab and headed home, looking out the window for any clues to help jog her memory.

The cab drove past the boulevard and into town. They passed many familiar streets that Bree remembered very well. A couple of business places whipped by; the mall, small private companies, federal agency offices, department stores, a vet, gas stations, inside out eateries, schools, a couple of hotels, the hospital, the park. . .

Bree gasped as realization slapped her in the face. Now she remembered what she had forgotten.

The hospital.

"Mom!" She exclaimed in fear.