Ghost Wolf lived in Planner's apartment with her. He was far too dependent on her to imagine anything else. His fragile new body made him feel more like a wimpy, powerless puppy than a savage beast. He was so weak and uncoordinated that it was a serious challenge for him to just to grab a pencil or hold a cup of coffee. He spent most of his time resting on Planner’s sofa in complete stillness.

All that Planner asked of Ghost Wolf was that he perform a set of light exercises with her every day and speak with her about whatever was on his mind. She took care of everything else. When he escaped from the mental hospital, he was undoubtedly a pitiful creature. But now, he was even more pitiful than that. He was Planner's pathetic little conversation partner. There was no point in resisting it. He did as he was told.

Planner was a strange duck. She was a woman of few words. Always dressed in conservative business attire with an expression of polite indifference, she spoke softly and simply and with great precision. But there was a trace of kindness behind her mask of perfect professionalism. At times, Ghost Wolf would catch her looking at him with a warm, kind, and gentle gaze. Other times, he caught a hint of pity and sadness.

He sensed the loneliness inside her. He felt the desire to comfort, to be needed. And he desperately needed to be needed. He was ready to do anything Planner wanted.

Ghost Wolf had given up on trying to be loved a long time ago. He was a vicious animal. He was a killer. He was a man with no future. All he could hope for now was to be close to someone else, someone who accepted him for what he was. He was willing to give up his freedom, his independence, his dignity, his humanity, just to have someone tell him he mattered.

The man within the puppet was tormented by feelings of guilt. Terrible thoughts and memories flooded his mind, and the beast inside him roared with pain.

He was responsible for the collapse of the Animal Brotherhood and the murderous frenzy that followed when Brother turned on Brother. And he really was crazy. He tore a woman to pieces in the Animal Mansion and ended up getting institutionalized for it. When he was locked up, he saw things. He thought the doctors at Well's Creek were showing him pictures of dead women and bringing live animals into his room. He didn’t belong out in the real world. He didn’t belong anywhere.

He didn't deserve Planner's kindness, trust, gentleness, or pity.
He didn't deserve a second chance.
He didn't even deserve to be alive.

The evil thing inside Ghost Wolf raged and clawed and tore at the restraints holding it in. It wanted to run free and kill. It wanted to destroy everything around it. But there was no hope of escape anymore. It could do nothing more than howl in pain and anguish. In the end, the man won out over the beast.

It was a long, dark road back to sanity. One step forward, two steps backward. A thousand little victories and setbacks. The fear, the shame, the confusion, and the anger never really went away. But gradually, with the persistent help of his tiny new roommate, Ghost Wolf crawled out of the darkness. He began to reclaim his identity and rebuild his soul.

"The production division is cutting corners again. Don't they know we're trying to sell a premium product here? I understand the managers are under a lot of pressure to meet their numbers, but the executives should know better..."

"We're going to hire a new receptionist for the front desk. We need someone who's friendly and outgoing... with a bit of a smile. A little personality would help."

"I'm going to go visit my grandmother this weekend. She lives in a nursing home... it's actually a pretty nice place. Do you want to come with?"

"We've been having a problem with one of our clients. They say our service is unreliable. If we can't deliver, there's a risk we could lose the account."

"Did you know the Chosen Ones run a charity organization that helps get homeless people off the streets? The idea is that we get them dependent on us, and then we indoctrinate them. Get them to do our dirty work."

"It's time for your daily exercises. Take deep breaths in through the nose, and blow it all the way out. Come on, try to keep up."

"If our sales fall short this quarter, I might have to take a pay cut. I've got to think of something flashy to impress the bigwigs..."

Over the course of many meaningless conversations, Ghost Wolf began to understand Planner's true nature. She was a woman with a sad, lonely heart. She was a woman who yearned for affection, love, and warmth. She was a woman who was afraid of being alone.

But there was much more to her than that.

She took calculated risks. She was always thinking about her next move. The way she spoke and carried herself was a carefully crafted performance, every word and gesture intended to persuade and influence her listeners. She was an actress, a chameleon with a talent for business, a fake. She had a thousand faces, and each one was perfect. She was a master manipulator hiding in plain sight, slowly worming her way into places she didn't belong.

She never hesitated, and she never lost her cool. She went out of her way to help people, asking them innocent questions and giving them opportunities to talk about themselves. She never forgot a name, a birthday, or a personal detail. She never lied, but she never told the whole truth, either. She was a woman of half-truths, quarter-truths, glossed-over details, and things left out.

The most remarkable thing about her, perhaps, is that she did all this just by being herself.

Planner was like a tiny bird flitting about in the branches of a tree, energetically pecking away at the soft bark, searching for insects or seeds, too harmless, too small for anyone to notice. But, given enough time, the little creature's relentless stabs and slashes would tear away at the tender wood, creating a hole just large enough for the cold wind to whistle its way inside and freeze the tree to death.

She was too clever by far. Too ambitious. Too ruthless. But, for some reason, the Chosen Ones couldn't see it. Or maybe they only saw what they wanted to see. They would swear she was harmless, a hundred pounds of blonde fluff and feathers. One day, maybe someday soon, the winds of change would blow, and the sudden chill of winter would bring down the Chosen Ones' tree. And the little bird living in its branches, the one that ate away at their strength, would soar away into the wide open sky.