Stillness is not being especially still. Not trying to fight it, most physical sensations are worse if you try to fight them, but that means he's not tensed up and he's not hiding how terrifying this is either. 

They say the worst part is feeling your tail wither up but Stillness thinks it's the legs forming, how new and part-of-him and not-part-of-him they feel, and the sun on him without water in between and the drying-up feeling that he can't get out of and can't flinch back into the water to get away from

He is acutely aware that he's being watched but it's not like it's strange or remarkable to find your second transition terrifying, it would be strange not to, he can't tense up he can't tense up that will make everything so much worse. 

Justice doesn't offer advice. He remembers what made it better for him but being told how to react definitely didn't.

"Would you like me to bring food?" he asks when he's been on watch for about half a day. It's hard to keep anything down but it's also hungry work and it lasts a long time to be without food.

Stillness nods, partially because he's hungry and partially because it'll get the eyes off of him, it's so dry and bright and he can barely see and he couldn't use his legs even if they were fully formed and he hates feeling so vulnerable so much. 

He's gone a while and comes back with a bowl of chunks of fried meat in berry jam. He sets the food beside Stillness and walks several feet away before sitting down to keep watching.

Not thinking about what he probably looks like from the outside is nice while it lasts.  

When Justice gets back Stillness reaches out and takes one of the chunks. Chews, swallows, waits a few minutes to see if he's going to throw up. 

Justice makes a soft sound to get his attention.

"Do you feel up to talking about your future yet?"

Stillness looks up at him. It's hard to see, everything is so bright, but if he squints a little the light is more manageable. 

"Probably," he says. Takes another chunk of meat when he manages to keep down the first one. 

"Do you already have a place to stay? Do you know what work there is?"

"I want to be in government." The most important information comes first. "My sibling has a room for me, I can stay there, unless there's a better place I don't know about?" 

Justice nods. "While you were in the sea, did you study any sociology or economics? What is it about governance that appeals to you?"

"Yes, both." 

I want to make the decisions, not have them made for me, is not the answer that's Justice is looking for. "I'm good at people, I believe I'd be good at it, it's a high-impact place to be good at things." All true statements. 

"I've worked in Starscope's government for almost five hundred years now, personally, and those aren't bad reasons, but I do want to warn you that you'll spend more time doing paperwork than talking to people. There's more direct use for people skills in teaching or therapy, but you're right, those aren't as high-impact as governance. I know of a couple of entry-level positions that you could apply to that might give you a path to working in governance. The Bureau is looking for people to help with data-gathering for possible revisions to health recommendations. That's the best path to having any voice in policy this century. If it doesn't appeal, I can look over job listings with you and help you figure out if any others would be a better fit for your skills."

"No, that appeals," Stillness says. He means it, too; the best path to a voice in policy within the century would have to be very unpleasant indeed for it to not appeal. 

The nausea hits right about then. Stillness closes his eyes, takes three slow breaths in and out, opens them again. "Sorry," he says, and tries to mean it. 

"Not your fault, unless you're much older than I think and designed our species. Just let me know if you feel like you need a doctor before you're done."

He nods, shifts a little bit closer to Justice, doesn't close his eyes again but focuses intently on regulating his breathing. He's starting to get used to how dry the air feels in his lungs. He's not sure what needing a doctor would feel like but it's probably more than just nausea and feeling so unbearably vulnerable. 

Justice watches.

They could probably go back to the old ways now, just leave people alone. They wouldn't have half as many deaths as they did before they started supervising people shifting.

There's a reason no one has proposed that in the last two centuries and it's because no one who remembers what it was like before misses coming to the beach to find people they knew, people they'd been waiting for, dead and half eaten by wolves.

The sun starts setting and the beach gets less horribly bright. The mosquitoes come out. Justice lights a stick of incense they'll find unpleasant and sticks it straight up in the sand. He doesn't remember if he was mosquito-bitten when it was him between forms fresh out of the sea. Probably. They didn't have any good insect repellents back then.

At first he thinks his eyes are adjusting to the light; it's kind of disappointing when that is not in fact the case. The incense smells weird and makes his lungs burn and is probably worth it. 

He keeps eating and pausing. "How long does this usually take?" he says. 

"From the first sign of darkening skin to being indistinguishable from any other adult averages eight days but that's probably not what you want to know. You look like you might be able to walk tomorrow. Might have a little tail longer than usual but there's no need to wait out here being perfectionist about it once your legs work."

He nods. "I'm going to try and sleep." 

"I'll be here at least through morning."

He waits. Nothing attacks Stillness. Wolves howl in the night but stay far away.

In the morning his lungs hurt less. He can't really tell whether he'll be able to walk yet but he might as well try, falling wouldn't make him look any more vulnerable than staying on the ground would. 

He tries pushing himself up with his arms first, how well does that go? 

Awkwardly but if he's very careful he can stand still without falling. For a while.

Justice seems to think this is only mildly interesting and definitely not worth interfering in.

Progress is progress. 

When he does fall over, Stillness pulls himself up again and tries to take a few steps away from the water. 

The sand shifts around his feet. His legs are still changing. A small animal watches him curiously from a distance. It'll take him a while to stay up for long distances but if he keeps at it he'll be able to get around this way before noon.

Justice doesn't seem to think him falling over is anything to be worried about. He doesn't offer any help.

Can't get better if you don't try, right? 

When he's able to walk more than a few steps without falling, Stillness starts looking for something to help him prop himself up — is there any driftwood or other large sticks on this beach?