It's clearly isn't trying to be helpful. "Can I wish to know how the wishes work and how to make them and everything you're not telling me?" 

"If you wish to be Coyote."

Taylor has a brief vision of swapping places with Coyote. "If I were Coyote, I'd answer all of Taylor's questions", she says. "Unless you kept annoying me. Then I'd just sit back and laugh while you flail around saying help me, how do you operate this Taylor, I can't stretch my neck anymore, help I don't know how to walk on two legs." 

God, what a horrible sentence. Coyote is clearly a bad influence on her. It makes sense - he does live in her brain.

"Look. I don't know what you want, or - almost anything really. If this is like a game, and you want me to figure out the rules by playing - I hate it, but I'll do it" if you leave me no choice. "Is there anything you can tell me? Or are you going to speak in riddles until I make a wish?" If that's even how it works, and not some elaborate game.

It laughs at her impression of it as Taylor, then gives a liquid shrug. "What counts and what does not is hard to define. It's easier to gesture at by example - and I don't know what things you would wish for."

"Ask if you could make this or that wish. I'll say yes or no, and I might even say why."

Maybe she should start with something small that has no way to go wrong. "Can I wish for an apple?"

"Also, can you explain what happened last week?" She hopes that is the right wording, rather than what happened to last week. "I wished for something, and - you changed things that had already happened. Is that how it always works? Can a wish change history?"

"You could wish for an apple."

"And I looked at two timelines that could be - and picked which one you'd find yourself in. The other timeline no longer exists. And you've already wished to change your life."

This explains approximately nothing. "Having an apple would change my life a tiny bit. I wouldn't wish for something I couldn't see or check. I don't understand where you're drawing the line."

"If I wish for an apple, what other wishes will count as the same? Will I be unable to wish for an apple again, or any food, or any - small green things?" Or any objects, she doesn't say, because she doesn't want to give Coyote any ideas.

"Depends on why you're wishing for it - if you're craving an apple, or if you're hungry, or if you're trying to bargain with someone really obsessed with apples."

"What kind of wish was showing me that bombing?" She really hopes it wasn't something is broad as wishing for information, or for trust.

"None - you made a request, and I could've ignored it, or done something else entirely to prove my powers."

"So I can ask you for stuff, and you might do that, but if I say it's a wish then you have to do it, unless it's like something I've wished before? The same reason or motivation or something?"

"More or less - for very big things, like changing history, the same effect matters more."

"What do you want out of this?" If Coyote can decide what requests to carry out, he must have... Opinions? Goals? Things he wishes for? "Can you do stuff if I don't ask for it?" Do they need to agree for something to happen?

"I want to not be bored! And for interesting, unexpected things to happen. And I can do small things you don't ask for."

What do heroes do with their powers? Fight crime, obviously, but maybe that's just what makes the news. Feed the hungry, heal the sick? She knows Panacea visits the local hospitals. She doesn't think there's a cooking cape in Brockton Bay, but maybe all the soup kitchens are run by parahumans and it's just not flashy enough for the newspapers.

When in doubt, stick to tradition. She can go out and look for people she can help. Maybe inspiration will strike her on the way. And if it doesn't, it's still a nice day for a walk.

"I want to go out. Can you make it so I won't look weird when I'm talking to you?" She assumes Coyote can come with her and is not, like, stuck forever in her bedroom.

"I can appear to others, if that's what you mean."

Oh. Um. 

She could go out in costume? That's what real heroes do. Coyote can probably make one for her. She'd be... Coyote Girl? uh, no... Wolf Woman? Talker-to-Animals? Howler - nevermind, she'll think of a name later.

That leaves approximately one really big problem.

"I'm afraid you'll talk to other people." It feels very wrong to tell someone 'you can't talk to anyone but me' - even if he does live in her head - but. "And, um, tell them stuff about me." Unflattering stuff, probably. "Heroes have secret identities so you can't let anyone know who I am, OK? No hints or riddles or clever allusions."

She remembers something else. "And no calling me Scarab Girl, I know it's a play on bugshit crazy and it wasn't funny the first time."

"It isn't," Coyote says with a smirk. "I won't reveal your identity - but you should look up the legends of Khepri."

"I need a disguise - a costume and a mask - and then I'll go out and change somewhere no-one can see me, and tell you to become visible."

What should it look like? She doesn't really want to attract attention (and she is NOT wearing spandex). Coyote will probably be happy to be the center of everyone's attention, anyway.

Something concealing, so people can't see her face. But not like what she usually wears. She wants to be different. To feel different. Taylor Hebert isn't someone who fights crime. Really, she isn't someone who fights. If an old lady asks her for help crossing the street, she looks both ways carefully for the girls setting up the prank, and when she spots it she abandons the old woman in the road and runs for it.

Metaphorically speaking, anyway.

She always tries to avoid attention. Maybe Hero Taylor can be different. That would be a real superpower.

"How about a costume in your colors? Blue and black with red highlights. Something I can put over my clothes. And a mask" - a wolf mask in Brockton Bay means Hookwolf, and she's not sure most people can tell a wolf apart from a coyote, not if it's just a mask - "something abstract, maybe? Can you show it to me before making it?"

"You have good taste!" It laughs, and darts towards her bed, grabbing a sheet and throwing it over Taylor's shoulders like a kid's budget cape costume - and then the fabric settles around her, transforms into a black suit of armor with white spots like eyes ringed with blue and red at the joints. "But you need a mask still..." 

And it puts one claw under its chin - 

- And pulls its face away, showing a skull underneath - 

And the removed face turns into a mask. 

This is slightly alarming! But skull-headed Coyote seems to be fine, and she is more concerned with the clothes it put on her (without her permission, but she doesn't want to have an argument about that right now).

She has her own hero costume and it is amazing. It looks good and feels good too, smooth heavy fabric, like stretchy silk. There are no seams to be seen, no zippers or buttons (can she even take it off without Coyote's help?) and it is fitted perfectly to her body. It includes gloves and socks and even shoes (black, with little white claws).

The mask is made of the same fabric, only stiffer. She puts it to her face and it stretches, wrapping around her head and tucking itself into the costume's collar, with her hair flowing down her back and her ears tucked inside. The world sounds different through the Coyote-ears sticking out from the top of the mask, not muffled but clearly different - can she hear ultrasound now?

Taylor tiptoes out and to the bathroom, ready to dash back and lock the door behind her at the slightest sign that her father is anywhere near (this is much easier with her newly improved hearing).

And she looks in the mirror.

And stares.

Oh.

She is unrecognizable. Her mouth and chin are still visible - which is good, she won't have to learn how to smile with a coyote's face - but with the costume and the mask, she looks more grown up. More serious. Dangerous, even, if she frowns she can imagine someone (who doesn't know her) taking her seriously. She can confront villains, with a skull-headed beast at her side, and not be laughed at. She can be someone who matters.

She probably won't confront any villains. She'll hide behind a corner and sic Coyote on them, like a sensible girl. But she can imagine it, and it's a heady dream.

Back to the bedroom, lock the door. The mask comes off when she tugs at it. (She hopes it won't be that easy for someone else to snatch it off her face. Hopefully she won't find out.)

How is Coyote doing without his face?

Pretty okay! Though he seems to be rooting through the papers on top of her desk, until he comes up with a blank piece of paper right after she gets back to the bedroom, and places it over his face -