<p>The decision to send a fork along to Artemis had gone over better than ey had expected. Eir partners had initially bridled at the idea of em — or at least an instance of em — moving on without them, but when ey explained that that fork would miss them dreadfully and could also to quit at any time in case ey began to miss eir family too much, they relaxed.</p>
<p><em>“While I do not wish to see you test whether or not you will be able to get over missing us,”</em> Dear had said. <em>“I recognize the impulse to explore and advance ones own knowledge.”</em></p>
<p>“Oh, I don’t know,” eir other partner had responded. “I wish that Codrin the best of luck. Perhaps it will become a case of em picking another name and growing a new identity.”</p>
<p>At that, Dear had clapped its paws. <em>“Yes! Yes, I can see that. Were that to be the case, my love, what name would you choose?”</em></p>
<p>Ey had laughed and shrugged. “I don’t know yet, but I think you may be right that this is an inflection point similar to the one from forty years back.”</p>
<p>And so here ey was, up early one morning before both of eir partners — Dear had grumbled sleepily at em when ey slipped away — standing beside a cairn with a mug of coffee, thinking about changes and a future alone.</p>
<p><em>I can quit when I want, if I need,</em> ey thought. <em>If it gets to be too much, I need answer to no one and can quit when I want. That will be proof enough of my love.</em></p>
<p>There were still several weeks still within Ansible range, but something about this morning felt like now was the time for big decisions, for big changes. A dream, perhaps? Ey didn’t remember eir dreams, but perhaps it was one of those ones that lingered beneath the subconscious, making itself known only through the acts one takes throughout the day.</p>
<p>Ey nodded decisively and dumped out the dregs of eir coffee, waving the mug away so that ey could walk without littering the prairie with dishes.</p>
<p>One step away from the cairn, ey forked, and a new Codrin fell into lockstep beside em. Each step after that, each footfall that hit the earth, eir new instance began to change, forking nearly in place to bring each change to reality as the two of em made their way to the next cairn out into the prairie.</p>
<p>Eir hair grew straighter, only some slight waviness remaining.</p>
<p>A dozen steps before they reached the next cairn, they were joined on one side by a failing in the land, a meandering stream-bed — dry now, more of a wash, perhaps — that had not been there before the arrival of the Artemisians, nor even, ey suspected, before ey’d made this decision. Neither stopped to stare, overshadowed as it was by pending goodbyes, but Codrin thought back to that letter from Ioan so many years back, of dandelions in eir yard, of May telling em about the subtlety of the System, of Dear saying that perhaps this sim that Serene had designed might react to the dreaming of its inhabitants.</p>
<p><em>How long until a ravine forms? A canyon?</em> ey thought. <em>How long until the rains carve away the land? How long until willows take root and huddle around the wash until the water no longer dries up, but becomes a creek? A river?</em></p>
<p>There were so many changes bound up inside em — inside them both — and now, whatever subtlety the system bore had caught on and began to reflect some part of em. Something new. Something big.</p>
<p>Her skin grew smoother, softer, fairer as they walked; her cheeks grew fuller.</p>
<p>And with that last footfall, she chose a name.</p>
<p>All throughout, Codrin walked and thought. Ey thought about what lay in the future. Ey thought about the agency ey still held. Ey thought about the words ey’d heard about being anchoring, about being grounding. Ey thought about that crossing point ey’d visited with Sarah, about the plaza that lay beyond. Ey thought about foxes and love and home and eir own anchors.</p>
<p>By the time they made it to the next cairn and stopped once more, Codrin had made eir own decision, eir own changes, though none showed on eir form. Both of them stood, watching as the sun slowly crept up from below the horizon.</p>
<p>“Well, not just the dawn,” she said. “But I’ll be leaving our sun behind in more ways than one. I’ll be leaving <em>this</em> sun behind.”</p>
<p>They shared in the silence, though they had to look away from the sun before long, instead scanning the far-running prairie. Codrin did eir best to drop thoughts of leaving Castor behind. Better, ey thought to focus on the fact that ey was staying, to rush individuation as much as ey could so that the weight of eir decision wouldn’t rest on the both of them nearly so heavily. That had been the point of all of the changes, hadn’t it? That had been the reason why ey hadn’t chosen the name first, <em>anem?</em></p>
<p>“Yeah,” she said, voice quiet and small. “I don’t know how their ACL patterns around sim construction work. I won’t port the whole sim — not the house, that’d hurt too much — but I may bring along a snatch of prairie. Enough to build a few cairns.”</p>
<p>She shook her head, and ey could tell that she was on the verge of tears. They both were. Ey took her hand in eirs and gave it a comforting squeeze, though for her comfort or eirs, ey didn’t know.</p>
<p>“Yeah, I do, too.” She finally turned to face em, smiling through her tears. “Do you think you’ll even tell them you did this?”</p>
<p>“I don’t know.” Ey laughed and squeezed eir hand, tighter this time. “I don’t know that I have that much sneakiness within me.”</p>
<p>Ey sighed, nodded. “I suppose I do. Why don’t you head out? I’ll decide on the way back whether I’ll tell them or not.”</p>
<p>Shaking eir head firmly, ey wiped eir eyes against eir tunic sleeve. “If you stick around, I’m going to keep thinking about it and not let you go. Individuation will happen as it will, but I’d prefer sooner than later for your sake, if nothing else.”</p>
<p>Sorina surprised em by hugging em tightly. Ey got eir own arms around her in turn, marveling at the fact that it was already a surprise. Perhaps she’d already changed more than ey’d thought. Or perhaps ey had. She felt like a new person, completely unlike emself, or even Ioan from whom they’d both derived.</p>
<p><em>Go,</em> ey thought to emself. <em>Go and be someone new. Go and be whole. Don’t let your grief define you, at least not forever.</em></p>
<p>There was another, slightly more anxious ping against eir sensorium, to which ey responded with one of acknowledgement and began to trudge back to the house, trying to tamp down that sense of loss. Ey let eir eyes follow that new wash, tried to replace more complex feelings with wonder.</p>
<p><em>“Goodness, my love, are you alright?”</em> Dear said, frowning at the sight of eir tear-slick face.</p>
<p>“Yeah, I’m sorry, fox.” Ey pulled it in for a hug, passing on the kiss to the cheek as ey’d promised.</p>
<p>There was a moment of quiet as Dear digested this. It finally nodded. <em>“I understand.”</em></p>
<p>Ey gave Dear a kiss of eir own and leaned back from the hug, waving another mug into existence so that ey could get a cup of coffee. “If I talk about this any more, I’m going to cry all over again. I’ll tell you more about her later, alright?”</p>
<p><em>“You cannot say things like that to a hopeless romantic. You will destroy them. They will collapse into a swoon. They will drown in their own tears. It is frankly irresponsible. Now, if you will excuse me, I am going to take a shower and cry my fucking eyes out for a bit.”</em></p>
<p>Ey rolled eir eyes, leaning over to tug at the fox’s tail before heading to the kitchen. “Welcome to the club. Go get your shower, though. Cry all you need, but no drowning, please.”</p>
<p>Ey took a deep breath, collected emself, and said what ey’d been practicing since ey’d started back to the house. “I have a proposition, and I suspect it’ll be easy enough for you two to decide on, but I’ve been thinking about how this all started and my complaints about feeling dragged along on adventures rather than taking part actively. I want to do something. <em>Actually</em> do something.”</p>
<p>“Of course. All that work on those cairns? Of course it’s coming with. I want to show them the prairie.” Dear leapt up to wrap its skinny arms around eir middle and ey shrugged as best ey could in the midst of a hug. “I want to show them what our home looks like. I want to see Stolon sun themself out in the grass. I want you both to meet Turun Ko.”</p>
<p>“Nope, don’t care. I don’t care if we fork and diverge. I don’t care if the rest of Castor never sees us ever again. I don’t even care if it’s all a dream or the LV failing or whatever.” Ey straightened up and nodded decisively. “That’s my decision. I invite either of you to talk me out of it, but I warn you, it’ll be tough.”</p>
<p><em>“No, no,”</em> Dear said, leaning up to lick at eir cheek. <em>“We are both game. Let us pack up and move house. Or not! Let us abandon this place to rot and create a new house, a new prairie, new cairns. Littering! Can you imagine?”</em></p>
<p>“I asked Sarah to help me write up the events into another book, but while we do that, she’s going to teach me more about therapy and what goes into listening more deliberately one-on-one. Not a huge career change, but a good one, I hope.”</p>
<p>“Nah, leave that to the other Codrin. Leave it to the university.” Ey laughed as the fox kept cavorting. “I’ll take some classes, talk with Sarah, and see where it goes. Everyone kept talking about how grounding I was, and I liked that. I like just being with people and listening to them.”</p>
<p>“No, I promise that’s it for now.”</p>
<p><em>“Lame.”</em></p>
<p>“Shush, Dear. What our our next steps, Codrin?”</p>
<p>Ey shrugged. “Ask about and see what goes into moving an entire sim into Convergence. Talk with Sarah. Start compiling notes. Ensure Sorina’s settling in okay.”</p>
