Surinama was proud to be a member of the Sorcerous Society. Every year, the Society Elders got together and, through divination and a few basic tests, discovered what species the initiates had an affinity to. The results determined the shape of their future lives, and that was as it should be.

Everybody wanted the big charismatic mammals, of course, the wolves and the big cats. There was even a lot to be said for some of the less charismatic species--Diego, Lord of Seagulls, was rather astonishingly powerful in the shipping industry, and nobody but nobody messed with the Rhino Queen or the Mistress of Porcupines.

Unfortunately, the same could not be said of Surinama's lemmings.

It wasn't their fault, of course. You couldn't help but like the little guys--they were cute and fluffy and they worshipped the ground she walked on. That was part of the problem. She couldn't make them understand that sometimes people like to shower without a horde of rodents sitting in the drains and riding the soap around the floor, and if she slipped up and raised her voice, the lemmings had an alarming tendency to throw themselves out of windows and over anything else cliff-like to try and make amends.

Still, it could be worse. She could have been her classmate, Roberta, Lady of Slime Molds, after all.

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Appeasing my inner child isn't a problem. Appeasing my inner teenage girl...urgh. That's the hard one. That's when stuff like this happens. I feel unclean. It's so...the big eyes...urrrggghhh....dying inside...

On the other hand, bein' me, at least there were lemmings.

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