"A sister is not a pet," says Morticia, raising an eyebrow. "But I see what you mean. Yes."

"Isn't there anything we can do? Any dread ritual—?"

Morticia is already shaking her head. "It's said that the witches of old were once fully human, but I don't know how to change an ordinary person into someone like us. It may not be possible. If you are going to ask Miranda to be your sister, you must assume it is not."

She sits still for just a second, considering.

Then she turns to Miranda.

"If you agree to be my sister I will swear a blood oath never to harm you except at grave need or with your informed and uncoerced consent," she says. "Will that suit you?"

(She's slightly disappointed by the apparent lack of dread rituals for giving people more hit points. Maybe more than slightly.)

Oh, they're the kind of people who have oaths. That's--quite good, actually, she's pretty sure most people don't. Another reason to throw in her lot with them rather than the state.

"It will. And--if by harm we mean specifically violence and not something I might do on accident--I would be willing to swear the same to you." The prospect of swearing an oath is if anything more frightening than the previous topic, but--these people met a lost stranger and immediately chose kindness and friendship and peace. She's going to extend her own olive branch back.

"I don't need that," she says, shaking her head slightly. "If anything... if anything, I'd ask you to swear to be careful with your own life and health. If you're going to be my sister while being—'ordinary'." The word seems to discomfit her, but she regains steadier conversational footing as she continues, "If something did happen to you, it would be such a tragic waste if you couldn't figure out how to come back and haunt me afterward."

Awwwww? That's weirdly sweet? This whole conversation is making her feel like a tiny delicate flower and actually being in a tiny body is not making her any less off balance.

"I'll be careful. I ought to have another seventy or eighty years in me if this body is what it looks like. Plenty of time to research dread rituals." That last bit is somewhere around 40% joke and the rest is a question.

"I'm sure Wednesday would be thrilled to help you with that, as would I," Morticia puts in. "Here is what I suggest. You can stay with us for a week, to get to know the whole family. We'll introduce you to everyone—my husband Gomez, Wednesday's brother Pugsley, and of course Lurch and Thing. After that, if you decide you really want to join the family, I will ready the adoption papers and smooth over any legal difficulties with your identity, and you and Wednesday may make whatever oaths to one another you wish. Does that sound reasonable?"

"Very much so. And, uh, if there turns out to be some reason it won't work out you can just point the way to the nearest police station and I won't tell anyone anything about you that you'd rather I didn't."

She nods. "If it does not work out, we will of course offer to have Lurch drive you into town, to a destination of your choosing. But if you prefer to make your own way, you may do that as well."

Cool, cars exist and they have one. "That'd be good, thanks."

She really needs to get oriented to either the alternate earth she's on or the masquerade she just got dropped on the other side of. "So, are--witches and vampires and suchlike--common knowledge, or a secret?"

"That is a complicated question," she says. "Of course among our own kind it is common knowledge that witches and werewolves, vampires, gorgons, sirens, all are real. But even there, some knowledge is hidden, and some has been lost. And Wednesday, I think, has in some ways led a life sheltered from the knowledge that they, the ordinary ones, are real. She knows that she is different from the other children at school, but does not understand how, or why; I think they feel the same about her. I grew up among outcasts myself, so I cannot tell you what the ordinary people say about us when they are alone together. Certainly many of them know that my family is different from theirs in more than just our lifestyle. Do all of them know that? I think not. I think that if you asked an ordinary person who had never been friends with an outcast whether magic was real, they might well say no. It is... not polite, in their society, to speak of such things."

"Hm. It sounds like I might not be on the same Earth I started out on, then. There it was less about politeness, people were more likely to say that they had looked for evidence of magic and found none. Or claim they had found some and present obvious hoaxes. But maybe they were just looking in the wrong places, or you're more hidden than things like Wednesday going to school implies. Or whatever sent me here wiped all my memories of magic and then put me somewhere I'd immediately find out about it for some reason. Maybe we should compare histories and geographies and things like that, see if everything matches. Or I can look at things on the internet if you have a computer you don't mind me borrowing."

"We do have a computer and of course you may use it. I would be fascinated to investigate differences in our histories."

"Remember to investigate the depth of your knowledge of different places," Wednesday puts in. "It could be the key to learning where you came from."

"Definitely. Should I do that now or should I meet people first or is there some third thing?"

"Gomez and Pugsley are on a little fishing trip with Thing at the moment. They should be back in a few hours, which I imagine leaves us plenty of time to get a start on comparative history. I noticed you haven't touched the refreshments; do you have any dietary restrictions I should know about?"

"Uh, I try not to eat anything with animal products in it but I recognize that this is inconvenient and" what's a polite way to say beggars can't be choosers "you're already going out of your way for me so if you don't happen to have anything vegan--" Shrug. Embarrassed staring at the table. Mental note to look up this world's farming practices as one of the first few things just in case they're better than the other one's.

"Hmm. A little tricky, but it shouldn't present too much of a challenge. Is honey an animal product, in your eyes? Can you think of any other little details like that that might not be obvious to someone encountering your diet for the first time?"

"Honey is fine, uh, yeast is fine, eggs are not, gelatin isn't because it's actually bones, dairy isn't and a surprising number of things are dairy?" 

She nods thoughtfully. "Yes, I think we can work with that. Though perhaps you should tag along when I send Lurch out for groceries, to make sure we get plenty of things you like, not just things you are willing to eat."

(Wednesday, meanwhile, begins to look intrigued as soon as the word 'bones' enters her ears.)

"Tagging along on a grocery run would be lovely, thank you." She needs to figure out some chores she can do around the house to mitigate her sense of dishonor.

"Then, which would you rather do first? History, or grocery shopping?"