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"It's very convenient," says Chris.

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And here they are on Mars.

"This is the emptiest city ever," says Elena.

"Pretty though," says Orfeo.
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"It'll get less empty with time."

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"We hope."

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"Probably takes a while to accumulate enough people to fill up a place like this," Orfeo says.

"Which way is out?" Elena asks.

"And do you guys want a ride?" her brother adds. "This place looks big."
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"This place is big," says Chris. "But I'm told there's public teleportation available."

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"Yep," says Libby. "This way."

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There are stairs, down into an open, underground room with a map on the wall and panels on the floor. Under the map are instructions: "To teleport: walk onto any panel, intending to appear at the station of your choice. Please don't linger in the receiving area."

"Pretty straightforward," says Orfeo. "Okay, which station do we want?"
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"Syrtis," says Libby, and walks onto a panel.

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Chris follows.

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The siblings go after.

This station looks much the same, but with "Syrtis Station" instead of "Tharsis Station" on the wall.
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Chris is already halfway to the exit; she turns and beckons them along.

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And off they go!

Olympus's buildings get a little shorter around the edges, but not much; most of the work is done by the fact that it's on a mountain. It gives way to a mix of moss and grass and patchy shrubbery, full of birds who are not particularly afraid of any of them.

"Whoo," breathes Orfeo.
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"This looks like a fun place to be a wolf," Libby remarks. "Chris, you ready?"

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"Go for it."

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And...

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...floof.

She does look pretty ridiculous. And somewhat less blonde.
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Elena howls with laughter.

"You want me to phase?" Orfeo asks her. "Usually easier to get the hang of doing it at will with someone to walk you through it in the packmind."
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[Yes please,] says Decorative Tassel Chris, trying ineffectually to blow the mop out of her eyes.

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Orfeo looks down at himself and notes that he's not in uniform. "I didn't think this through," he says. "Either of you going to freak out about nudity? You want me to change behind the bush over there?"

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[I'm not bothered,] says Chris. She manages at last to shake her head so that her ridiculous mane settles away from her eyes, and blinks triumphantly at Libby.

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Libby shrugs. "I don't have a strong opinion. But you may as well use the bush."

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Orfeo heads bushward, pulling his shirt over his head as he goes but leaving everything else for privacy.

"We don't get cold and we can't avoid some amount of nudity as an occupational hazard," Elena says. "If you didn't see anybody running around naked while you were visiting it was a coincidence. People aren't fussed about it, even though we still default to clothes-while-on-two-legs."

Orfeo finishes getting out of fragile fabrics, and floofs. His fur is a much more manageable length. It's sort of a frosted-charcoal color, like he's gray but stood in the snow on a windy day for a few minutes. He trots back over towards them. You're not freaking out, far as I can tell, Orfeo says, but regardless the trick for phasing back is calm - sometimes humor, sometimes distraction, but usually calm.
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"I'm not very fussed. A tiny bit fussed," says Libby.

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Huh, says Chris. Telepathy. She stretches and wags her tail. I'm not freaking out. Moriarty girls don't freak out. Calm, huh? Well, that can wait. I see what you guys meant about wanting to run.

And without further warning, she bounds away from the city at top speed.
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