Arc considered the life he was living under Breda's supervision to be much better than that under his father. Though, to be honest, just about anything would have been better than that. He still suffered in the form or breastfeeding, but he swallowed his pride for it. He needed to eat to live after all. His newest and most appreciated boon was his increased freedom of movement. His recovered strength and Breda's lax but attentive care meant that he wasn't contained to a blanket or crib.
Arc took full advantage of it too. He crawled as far as she would let him, taking his time to explore the floor. He crawled under the chairs and tables. He rolled across the soft, if dusty, carpet. His goal was not only to explore this new space but to build up his strength as fast as possible, all the while pondering what the black-haired dog-eared man meant by 'gain control'. As far a he could tell, he was in complete control of his mind, so it wasn't that. He thought it meant his body, as that was really the only thing he was not able to control at the start. Perhaps his physical coordination was still not at a level that satisfied him, hence his focus on strength.
Needless to say, this was exhausting for him. Arc's baby body was seriously lacking in muscle mass and energy reserves, not to mention it's rapid growth. He often found he would collapse without much warning, waking up in either a basket or a crib. Naturally, he wasn't allowed to crawl around outside, instead being put in a baby carrier as Breda did her various chores. Besides this time he used to look around and think about the things he had seen in "Anima Operantium," he was only ever confined during two other occasions. Those being when it was night and she was asleep and when she went to the market to get food and other commodities for her family.
This time was easily his least favorite part of his day, aside from when he was bathed, fed, and had his diaper 'refreshed' in Breda's terms. Of course he couldn't blame her for this. She had her own to cake care of, not to mention herself. He used this time in the best way he could think of, practicing standing. He could practice this whenever he wanted, all he needed was a wall, the only reason he couldn't do anything else was that the crib was too small. Nevertheless, he leaned against the bars and fell down over and over as he tried to balance himself upright for the first time.
The soft and malleable cushion made it a bit difficult at first, his legs giving way almost immediately, but he was able to stand while leaning by his fifth day in Breda's care, and being able to take a few steps unassisted by the end of the week. He was well aware that this was far faster than a baby had the ability to walk, but he at the very least remembered how to walk, so his progress was much faster than others. Still, an infant only 7 to 8 months old would be extremely suspicious if found to be walking (not to mention it looking a bit weird) so he kept this fact hidden to the best of his ability.
He was still left to his own devices a week after his arrival, however he had begun to attract the attention of another resident of the household. Up to this point Breda had been slightly worried about Arc's physical strength and had forbidden her other children from interacting with him. This only disappointed them for a short period of time, quickly losing interest in him and moving to play outside. Her youngest child was still too young to go out and play with them, being barely ten months old. Thus, when she felt her mother would no longer punish her (more like when she got too curious), Ering crawled over to greet the similar sized intruder to her home. Immediately, she wanted to play, using her hands to pat Arc and grab his attention.
Arc was still on a mission, and still a relatively mature adult mentally, even if he did not know too much about stuff in general. Thus, he tried his hardest to ignore or out-run this nuisance, finding much to his chagrin his inability to escape. This action of his seemed to enrage Ering, and she started to push and pull him in order to make him sit still. This commotion caught Breda's attention, and she got up from her knitting in order to separate the two and scold her little rascal.
"Arc is not a toy, he is a friend." she explained to the one person in her family who likely couldn't understand her, well aware of it's futility. "You have to be nice to him, he is not as healthy as you are."
However even Arc would not have predicted what occurred next. The previously babbling and incoherent voice that had annoyed him for minutes made it's first ever coherent word.
"Friend?" Ering asked, with her head cocked to the side. Breda was so shocked she almost dropped her.