In the edges of her vision, she can see it sneaking. Everyone else here seems to have an animal custodian here, but it makes Tris nervous. They act as if it's perfectly natural, having a crow nearby or a tiger. Some of them even regard her strangely for not having one. It makes Tris uncertain, unready.

She can't, won't stop. More than ever, she needs to leave this strange place with all of its trappings of benign academia. When will she smell old wood and books without associating it with chemicals and serums? With blood? With death? The scent makes her throat close as Tris fights the urge to cry yet again.

When she is safe, she can cry. Not now.

"If you keep running from me," a light, male voice says, "they're going to realize we can be far apart. Only witches and Divergents can do that."

"Wh-what are you?"

"Hecatarus! Your daemon. What else would I be?"

"My...My what?" Finally she gets a good look at him. Hecaterus has all the trappings of a gray, well-fed house cat, dyed in the fur with Abnegation colors. Then he speaks and Tris perceives long fangs, longer than would be on any tame cat.

But Abengation are not cats, they are not sly or self-preserving or predatory. This is a Dauntless creature, a Divergent creature, wrapped in Abnegation disguise.