ORIGIN

After a few minutes of play, the tiny boar slowed, finally stopping with an exhausted, happy grunt, nuzzling close to his scaly friend with a sigh. Dragon's words buzzed through the air, reaching Czernobog like lazy trails of maple syrup, in one ear, taking a long, odd trip through the creature's consciousness, before exiting out the other. Still, he knew the word rest now, and decided to do just that. The mention of hunt made tired eyes pop back open, and the black ball of fuzz snorted in agreement, already excited at the prospect of moving on, seeing more of Cetus, and perhaps eating more of that heavenly smelly stuff...

Of course, neither Dragon nor the pig himself knew that boar, generally, didn't eat meat, only taking it to survive in times of shortage. Now, however, he'd gotten a taste for blood, for rot, for the thick tang of death on his tongue, sliding down his throat. Just imagining being the one to kill a beast like the cave deer, to tear at it until its heartbeat slowed to a stop, to spear through its hide and into its gummy, bloody flesh... it was enough to leave the boar wide awake, struggling to go to sleep, if only for the chance to make the dream a reality come morning.

The tiny creature would hunt for his singer, would bring him back something strong and healthy, something to show the older Gembound that it was more than a helpless baby, that it was worthy of the affection the alligator had let shown through. Sing. Boat. With a sleepy sigh, the piglet dropped off into a deep sleep, filled with visions of gore and death, of hunger and finally, finally, finally being full.

The alligator woke only slowly, though he hadn't slept so deeply that something amiss wouldn't have woken him. His reptilian brain left him on the edge of consciousness--aware but unaware, resting, his senses operational but his mind empty.

When the sounds of the night insects had died down and the dimming orb-lights began to brighten--almost imperceptibly, their daylight hardly different from night in the murk of the marsh--Dragon finally lifted his head.

He uttered a soft grunt, and turned to eye the sleeping pile of black bristlefluff at his side. He could wake him; could nudge him, ask him if he were ready for his first hunt, for Dragon to show him where the good places were. He had half a mind to go in and utterly decimate the rat-pit he'd fallen into early on--to finally get revenge on the den of enormous cave rats who'd tried to eat him. He wasn't sure if Bog, however, would find it thrilling, or horrifying.

He made the decision to start with something smaller, then. The cave spiders just below weren't far--and they'd also give the boar some idea of what he could do with his magic, perhaps. But Dragon also made the decision to let the boar sleep; he looked peaceful enough, Dragon thought, tilting his head to peer down at him. There was no point in waking him, yet.

The alligator settled back down, casting his gaze over the swamps of Cetus as he waited for Bog to wake. He'd let him rest. They had all the time in the world.

Deep within the darkness of Czernobog's rather simplistic brain, the piglet slept, vague, fleeting images of the rat nest, his singer, the inside of the chrysalis, popping up at random. None of it was coherent enough to be called a dream, nor a nightmare, and so the boar simply slept, completely unaware of the world outside of the land of sleep. Slowly, he surfaced, grunting and huffing in annoyance, trying to find what, exactly had awoken the creature.

The world seemed a bit brighter, but it couldn't tell whether that meant it was morning or not. Still, the time wasn't important - what was important was the hunting Dragon had mentioned, and Bog stumbled to its tiny trotters, stretching with a sharp crack! of its spine and a pleased snort. Wiry fur covered in a light coating of both morning dew and the general muck that came with living in Cetus, the boar didn't wait to see if the alligator was awake as well, instead walking up to and along the edge of the cliffs, peering down into the darkness below.

Spiders. The term guaranteed danger - and by proxy, a hunt. The thought made Czernobog gape at the fog-covered edge of the cliffs, tiny tusks flashing in the sunlight, glaring as if it was sure that the arthropods would suddenly appear.

He slowly turned his head until he could fully see the little piglet, and its clicking, dancing hooves. It had boundless energy, he noted; and that was a good thing.

His tusks tossed up and down, challenging all of Cetus, it would seem. He danced along the edge of the rock, high above the marsh, inches from death but triumphing over it. It wasn't prophetic so much as metaphorical, Dragon thought; the boar piglet would just be a tough little bastard.

Like he'd been, he thought wryly.

Dragon let out a soft snort to let Bog know that he was awake, and then turned, slowly crawl-slithering down from his warm rock, along the path that led back into the dark, cool, wet marshes below. Away from the light-orb, the mist drifted once more; once out of the cover of the curved roof at the edge of the cave, rain once more splattered about in the grass.

Dragon led Bog down, around to the bottom of the cliffs. They had slept at the south end of the cave, where the jutting stones created a system of wet trenches and shelters, and in places, what looked like dark and dangerously-angled caves. It had taken Dragon some time to find the path up the ledges to his favorite sleeping-spot, but down here, down below, more than once he'd gone hunting.

Rats liked to live in the dark crevices, some of which were slightly higher than ground-level and thus drier than the soggy earth below. Both regular rats, and massive, black, crooked-toothed cave rats.

He also remembered the creatures that preyed on these rats: enormous, hairy spiders with many eyes and venom-slicked fangs. They'd spit web at him, before--thrown it toward him, caught him up in it, bundled him up. Setting it on fire had accidentally set the binding on his own body on fire, melting scars into the flesh of his armored back that were still very faintly visible, moreso when he was dry.

But he was larger, now. It would be a good start for the piglet: to show him how to hunt rats, and to show him how the spiders bound them. Maybe he could learn to use the vines to wrap his own prey. He'd have to be cautious, but with Dragon to protect him, he was unlikely to come to serious harm.

"Be careful," Dragon warned with a growl as he approached the dark crevices. Already he could see the reflection of Cetus's dim light in eight glinting eyes. He drew up closer, then stopped, looking to Bog.

"There are rats," he rumbled, "And there are spiders. Find the smaller rats. Eat them. The spiders are dangerous."

Then he paused, to see if the boar piglet had anything to ask, before the alligator continued with his plan.

Czernobog jumped a bit at his singer's huff, turning to face the alligator with a happy snort of greeting. The boar was quick to follow when Dragon began to make his way down from the resting spot, tiny hooves click click clicking on the stone of the cliffs. Wide brown eyes peered down into the many dark crevices, no doubt hosting countless things to fight, to chew, to tear open. The anticipation made the piglet grunt down into one of the crevices, squealing in surprise and a good bit of anger when a rat hissed back. "Chuuuuuurn," he bellowed back, the rat turning tail with a startled glare.

Finally, the pair reached their destination - a particularly gloomy crevice, filled with slowly moving shapes, and the black ball of fluff huffed, trotting back and forth restlessly, wanting to charge in. Still, the singer was saying... something, and even if Bog couldn't quite understand it, it had to be important. Find. Rats? Eat. That the creature could understand perfectly, and it snorted, tail wagging, salivating at the prospect of digging into more stringy, juicy meat.

The boat was saying something about danger, but the piglet simply glanced up at him, gave a tiny, pleased hop, and turned around, charging into the darkness with a loud bellow, maw gaping open and agate tusks glinting in the fading light of Cetus, the smell of prey heavy in the air.

post roll:
Czernobog skidded to a stop, enveloped by the darkness, tasting the air with soft huffs and grunts, eyes slowly adjusting in the cavern. The place was alive around him, the soft scurrying of rats, the curious skittering of things with many more legs. Now, it went silent, as if waiting for him to move - and move he did, sticking his snout to the ground, snorting as it tried to track its prey. An unlucky rat caught the pig's eye, and he was off like a shot, hooves beating a pattern into the stone floor, just on its tail when snap, something else got to it first. The rat screamed as it writhed in place, thoroughly entrapped in what the piglet could now see was a massive web, silk shimmering in the pale light.

The tiny black boar grunted in annoyance, glaring at the web, trying to find what, exactly had stolen his breakfast. There - the tell-tale whisper of eight thin legs on the floor, and as suddenly as the web had appeared, so too did the spider who owned it. It was massive, eyes glinting in the dark, clicking its mandibles in warning, staring back at Czernobog from its place behind the web. Angry and confused, the piglet bellowed again, voice echoing off of the walls of the crevice, and turned tail, charging back towards Dragon - before turning again and speeding towards the web, barrelling into and through with a vengeful squeal.

Its head connected with the spider's, dazing the arachnid, and as it fell, so did he, grabbing a thin leg in his jaws and pulling as hard as the little pig could. The appendage ripped off, but he dropped it, taking advantage of the dazed predator and opening his maw, jamming one of the developing tusks within into the spider's abdomen, again, again, again, until it fell silent, organs and hemolymph oozing out of the wound. Czernobog grunted, digging into the meal, tiny tail wagging gently as the gore smeared into his fur.

Dragon had listened with alarm as Czernobog simply bolted off into nothing. The gaps between the ledges had--for him--been no more than a meter or two deep. The piglet sounded like he'd found a deep tunnel, instead, likely leading betwen tented boulders or the like.

He crawled into the space of the entry, listening to the sounds of squealing and grunting. But Bog didn't sound pained; in fact he sounded rather satisfied, and the sound of crunching and slashing had been clear. Dragon dragged himself into the tunnel's mouth, blocking the light, and found that he couldn't see. He lifted his head, opening his jaws and inhaling, the glittering spectre of burning embers swelling and brightening with the influx of cool air.

There was a quiet, brief stream of crackling flame licking at the ceiling, and in that time the cavern was illuminated. Spiderwebs hung and swung overhead, drops of mist clinging to them like diamonds. Ruby and emerald were the shine of spiders' eyes, both the dead arachnid on the ground and one or two smaller ones clinging to the safety of the stone roof. Ferns and thick, dull-colored grass grew on the damp soil, and beyond, Dragon could see the tattered remnants of a web--some loose filaments still tangled about Bog's hind legs--and the gored, partly-dismembered shape of a dead spider.

This he only saw briefly, in a flash, as he closed his jaws and quickly lowered his head. Once the fire faded, everything was black again, steeped in shadows.

He laughed, a soft bass chuckle.

"You did better than I did, the first time I came here," he said, deciding not to scold the piglet on having gone straight for the dangerous prey. "They are good to eat. Just watch out that the ones up above don't jump on you," he added wryly.

Dragon then turned, slowly crawling back out of the entrance, curling his heavy bulk to clear it, so that Bog could get back out once he was done in there. Paler, dimmer and more natural light flooded back in as his shape left the entrance.

He is tough. And fiery. It's a shame he didn't get fire. But maybe what he has will be useful.

Once he'd cleared the exit, Dragon turned again, so that he could see in. "Your magic. The plants, on your face and leg. Can you make a web, the way the spiders do?" He didn't expect Bog to exactly comprehend, and he wasn't sure how to show him. But maybe if he asked the question a lot, and phrased it different ways over time, as Bog grew, maybe he would grasp it then.

Czernobog lifted his head from the arachnid's corpse at the flare of light, turning to greet Dragon with a happy snort. The spider's pseudo-blood had started to dry around his mouth, and the tiny boar licked at it, huffing in annoyance at the crusty texture. The light had caught the twinkle of eyes overhead, and he squealed, baring gore-stained tusks up at the other two spiders, as if daring them to come down from their perch. Satisfied, he started to trot back towards the singer - and promptly fell on his face, back legs covered in sticky webbing. A few angry squeals later, the boar had managed to kick off most of the fibers, though some stayed bound around its hooves and hocks.

The piglet hushed at the sound of the boat's voice, grunting proudly, trotting back to his prize and picking up the detached leg, carrying it in his mouth awkwardly back to the alligator. Czernobog stopped just outside of the crevice, dropping the long, skinny leg in front of Dragon with a grunt and a tip tap of hooves, the boar almost appearing to do a miniature dance. He leaned down and moved it closer to the reptile with a snort, before sitting back on his rump, tail wagging wildly. At even more words - most of which didn't make any sense - he snorted, front legs moving restlessly.

Plant... web? That made a bit more sense now that the creature had seen just what a web was. Thinking hard, it reached out to its helpers again, this time focusing on the ones buried in his skin.

post roll:
With a tug, the tiny green sprouts began to move, to grow outwards, to twist in on themselves, forming tiny criss-crosses, an attempt to mimic the intricacies of the spider's web. It wasn't particularly impressive, but Czernobog squealed happily nonetheless, appearing to ignore the trickle of blood oozing from his skin, where the roots had been implanted.

Dragon watched his little boarling trot back, dragging a spider leg and grunting rather proudly. Dragon grunt-huffed right back, a soft rumbling exhale of breath, still hot from his magic.

Then he leaned forward, slightly, tilting his head as he watched the boar pondering his words. Bog understood some of it, then, if not all. A squeal rang in his ears, making him wince, but upon blinking that away he could see a new and more intricate pattern of vines growing there. He was unsure how well it could be adapted to a spiderlike binding, but at least the boar had that lesson learned, and might remember and use it later on, in whatever form he found useful.

However...

Dragon's pupils dilated somewhat, from half-slits to dark pools, and he inhaled more deeply.

Blood.

And indeed he could see the trickle, now, and again he gently snorted, eyeing Bog with faint concern.

"Not too much," he warned quietly. "It's--... Damaging you," he added.

If alligators could frown...

But Dragon turned, dragging his heavy tail as he lifted his head, arcing his neck to try and peer over the tall grass. They could hunt rats, maybe; he could show him the best places, and the best ways. But then again, he needed to learn what he could eat, and what he could not, and so Dragon half turned back, peering. He looked between Bog and his spindly spider leg.

"Are you going to eat that?"

At the warning, Czernobog huffed, absently lapping up the blood oozing from his cheek with an irritated tap of his hooves. His singer didn't seem to be getting the memo, and so the boar eagerly pushed the spider leg farther toward the alligator, snorting and miming eating with a flapping jaw. "Chuuuuurn," the ball of fluff insisted, pushing the leg forward until it was close enough to touch the reptile before sitting back on his rump, tail wagging.

It seemed it wanted to share its kill - perhaps out of pride, perhaps out of some instinctual pull to feed its "pack" - whatever the case, the leg remained untouched, the little piglet simply licking up the remaining arachnid guts clinging to his snout. His pushing and pulling of the carcass had caused the leg to indent, oozing out hemolymph; it probably looked more appetizing to the pig than his singer, but it was food nonetheless.

Dragon's eyes gleamed as he watched the piglet.

He's tough, he's aggressive, AND he shares his food with me?! HE'S THE PERFECT SON! ...Brother! Whatever!

The alligator tilted and lowered his head, using his teeth to scrape the leg off the ground and into his jaws. Then he lifted his head, tossing the leg and catching it in his maw, gulping it down with a few crunches and the drip of ichor down the side of his maw. When he'd swallowed it all away he eyed Czernobog with the same glowing smile, like a proud mother watching her daughter after the kid's just brought a pretty drawing over. Dragon was ecstatic.

He also knew exactly the place to bring Bog next.

"...Want to have some fun?" he offered, mischief all over his face. He abruptly stood higher, and started quickly crawling off into the swamp, turning to peer back at Bog to see if he was interested.