"He's earned to live six months here. That's only fair," Hilda said sensibly.
"He makes a cute little froggie," smiled Gilda.
"I knew that he'd make a little darling of a frog," said Matilda with much pride. "Let's keep him six months and then decide what we should do."
"He should be much happy in his new room. He'll make lots of friends!" Hilda said.
"And he'll have free food! And a clean room done all for him! Lucky him!" Matilda added. "He should be quite grateful!"
"Little prince," cooed Gilda. "I know the perfect room for you."
They all marched off further into the apartment, James still within Gilda's palm. It felt like going further into his own prison, making any chances of escape retreat away ever increasingly. He doubted his new 'room' would be as grand as the witches made it out to be.
His new 'room' for the next six months in effect turned out to be a terrarium. A very big one, very lavish as terrariums might go, but a terrarium all the same. Never mind that for his size it was the equivalent of a sizeable apartment. There were lily pads, slime, mud, many, may plants, two tiny replicas of little ponds and warm lights and humidity. However, Matilda had created this terrarium masterpiece with her own sense of humor. This was clear in the presence of tiny little knights and princesses statues and a very big stone castle were he could live in and rest and hop to his heart's content. The little green frog that had been James was gently placed there. He croaked which the witches assumed was his thanks. In truth, it had come out of nowhere for the poor transformed lad. Matilda fed her new darling pet with a tiny bowl filled with dead flies and crickets. The three witches told him to be good. They would be back in the morning because the night would be long for them, practicing their spells. They kissed him good night and left. If James hadn't been so focused on his new glass environment, he would have noticed he was not alone in the room. This was the room where the witches kept their tenants, their former tenants, their transformed tenants, until the new one had been dealt with. They would be placed again in their other rooms later on. And as James hopped around, croaking and discovering his new body and abilities, he became aware of other noises around him. He pressed himself against the pane of glass of his terrarium and peered at the movements beyond his new leafy and humid room. He clearly was not alone. Definitely not.
He had more roommates than he had suspected. Even one would have been surprising but there were at least half a dozen animals. Some quite unusual. Not even exotic. More like imaginary. There was a raven perched in a cage and a parakeet and parrot on their own large standing perches a bit further. There was also a dragon, with blue scalers, in a big cage and with a chain attached to its hind leg. Also, James could hear weird wet noises below the table of his terrarium.
"Other victim! Other victim!" screeched the parrot. "Poor soul! Poor soul!"
These were the tenants that had arrived before him, James understood. How long had they been here, transformed? Had they been forced to be animals for longer than the six months? Why couldn't James be a bird instead? It sounded a lot more pleasant than being a frog. Oh, and the parrot could actually speak, and not only fly. If he was a good little frog, whatever that meant, maybe the witches could change him into a bird? Even a dove or a dodo would be better than a tiny hopping green amphibian. James tried to speak out to his fellow prisoners but only loud croaks came out of his throat. The other poor transformed victims tried to shift to observe their newest comrade in common misery. This resulted on more noises and it brought about a wail. A baby-like wail. Now what was that? James got his answer soon as the door opened and Gilda came to retrieve a baby basket near the table where James was. A baby? A tenant had be changed into a baby? Gilda hushed the infant and went out the door, saying that this one needed his bottle of milk, a change to be put back in a quiet room. Hilda answered back that the satyr daddy would come to pick up his new son and pay them within the week. And indeed the baby looked more hairy than normal infants and had tiny protrusions on his forehead. James was now a cold-blooded animal but it did not stop him feeling his blood indeed turn cold in his amphibian veins. A tenant had been changed into a baby satyr and was sold to a new family? Was that his final fate? And what about the others? Who had they been, before? What was their story? How did they adjust to being animals, now?
A few days later, as James was getting used to eating worms and bugs and forgetting that he had found those repulsive at some point, he heard a roar of joy, loud and booming, coming from another room of the apartment. A loud bellowing voice was heard, exclaiming that he was perfect and the cutest goatling he could ever hope for. The clopping of hooves were also heard, much coos and babyish sounds and profuse thanks offered for this opportunity to become a proud father and for the gifts given by the witches. Looked like the adoption process and meeting had gone a stellar way. And the baby satyr was never seen again, though James did ponder what had been his past, how he was doing and what his life was like now. The witches whooped in joy at the bag of gold coins offered for the goatling babe. They rejoiced and celebrated, giving their pets more food. James, in spite of himself, was happy to see crickets galore in his bowl. Those thingies were so delicious! Crunchy on the outside and soft on the inside! And so nutritious! After a dozen, he croaked and hopped and swam happily, feeling he was going to burst with energy. And hopping was fun! Like he was a living green rubber ball. And he could plunge and swim in the water like a pro! And after bask in the warm artificial lights. Plus, the room had become quieter after the birds had been given back to heir usual rooms. Matilda said that soon James would be off to live in her room. But for now, it was only the baby dragon and him. He did not know who she had been before but boy did that female hatchling have a temper. A real foul mood, even if it might be understandable. Perhaps she had enjoyed her former human life from before and missed it sorely. From the witches, James came to piece together that she was a girl, a very young dragon and that two male dragons were waiting for her. Another adoption, then. Maybe she had been raised conservative and did not want to be raised by two homosexual males, dragon as they might be? Or she was just furious at having her life ripped from her. Well, James thought she should stop being so difficult. He was a from in a terrarium, for crying out loud! How would she like THAT? He'd trade places with her any day! And still SHE complained? Hilda said, after the dragon snapped at her something fierce, that she'd put a muzzle on her and that next time, they'd change the tenant straight back to the egg. Much less hassle that way. And eventually, the baby dragon was off to her new expecting parents. James was happy about it. She could only either snap or cry by whining and wailing and howling. Good riddance! And good luck to the two adult male dragons with her. That being said, the witches exchanged the gold for the hatchling in her cage through a wizard intermediary, who just said that the two paternal dragons would be sure to provide love, direction and guidance to their new daughter and that dragons were fully aware of how papering and mollycoddling a hatchling could bring about wonders. The witches laughed and snorted a bit but readily took the gold. They were evidently relieved that baby dragon was gone for good. As for James, he hoped better living quarters would bring more excitement and things to do. He was a bit bored at times, when he thought again like a human. He didn't even know when the six months would be up. Or were they up already? Who knew? So part of him wondered if he'd see new tenants and if their transformation would be entertaining, if not interesting.