One quick look in the test cage spurs a rush to the nearest mirror, wherein Vina's apprehensions stand at ease.

Satisfied that nothing is amiss; orange stays her colour (copper-tone-ish highlights through the tangled mass retained), she marches resolutely back to the once-more-pure-white squirrel.

How, she wants to know, or rather, why this total relapse?

Sighting down her upturned nose, she peers between the bars - wary, of a sudden, her suspicions roused, incredulous. Something is abnormal with respect to aspect, posture, disposition of the rodent and its reinstated hue. A proud persona underscores its (male or female?) newfound temperament - haughtiness detectable, in its pink, put-offish, leer suggesting gender is an issue. 'It's' a he, and 'he's' disgruntled... nay, disdainful, if she reads him rightly, translates his expression (not that squirrels have facial features that display sufficient range), yet Ade Oya...

Ade Oya? He, by means she cannot fathom, has informed her of his attitude, his distemper, now his name. Without a single whisker's twitch or telling swish of his bushy tail, the squirrel transmits a soundless surge of information.

WHAT YOU FAILED TO FORECAST, MY DEAR ETHNOCENTRIC MENTOR, IS A PAIR OF GENES YOU PASSED ALONG TO ME HAS BRED LIKE FLIES, HAS 'SUBDIVIDED,' IN THE PROPER SENSE  (ESCHEWING 'COUNTRY' MATTERS) TO THE TUNE OF TENFOLD NEURONS - NAMELY MINE - TO ONE OF YOURS. WE'RE TALKING BRAIN CELLS, BABY, BUILDING BLOCKS FOR BRILLIANCE, INGENUITY, OF THE TYPE THAT RENDERS JAIL BREAKS ELEMENTARY. CASE IN POINT.

Inclining slowly, so as not to startle Vina into action, Ade Oya bumps his snout against the bars of his metal cage, at once retreating as the portal swings ajar.

Mesmerized (if plotting, scheming, calculating options), Vina stares at the albino, who resumes a passive air - albeit cheeky in its brand of brash self-confidence.

Acknowledging any intellect as superior to her own incenses Vina. Her distinction is a wit beyond compare; her whole self-image is invested in said genius-grade intelligence - an advantage over others countermanded...

...by a squirrel?

Hallucination; that explains it. She got heat stroke, out with Hamid. Sans a payung for protection from the sun, her brain got baked. No matter what she may have introduced to Ade Oya's genome...

IT HAS GIVEN ME AN INSIGHT HERETOFORE BEYOND MY RANGE.

Appalled her symptoms are persisting, Vina covers up her ears in hopes of shutting out this inexplicable broadcast.

MENTAL POWER, PEOPLE-STYLE, AT BASE, IS PROBLEMATIC, INSOFAR AS FRUIT IT BEARS BOTH FEEDS AND POISONS, SATES AND STARVES. THE TWOFOLD NATURE OF YOUR SPECIES PUTS IT ENDLESSLY AT ODDS. WHATEVER LOVE YOU MAKE IS OFFSET BY AN EQUAL BENT FOR HATE - WITH NEITHER LIKELY TO REFORM ITS DISOBLIGING TWIN. HUMAN NATURE 'NATURALLY' IS THEREBY DOUBLE-FACED.

Lecturing her, no less; she feels subjected to a sermon, some supreme-supposing, highfalutin, pious blah-blah-blah that is a bit too much to take from a glorified lab rat.

"Blender," Vina hollers!

CLINK!

The cage door promptly slams, an extra padlock put in place to ensure incarceration.

*

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