ORIGIN

She listened closely, forgetting to chew for a moment so rapt was she in her attention to Vanyel's words.

He was free with them, generous, and she accepted such a gift with quiet gratitude. And somewhere in the back of her mind, Mother listened, took note, and offered her own soft input.

You have seen the white tufts, came the faintly foreign thought; and Ananke, with alarm, wondered for the first time if she'd done wrong by eating one at Morpho's suggestion. But a reassurance came with it, now with words: I do not control you. Or anyone... My thoughts are mine, but you can hear them. As I can hear yours. He is right, about the creatures with many eyes. They are Chaos. We are Order. I will tell you more... when you are older. And blending with this, so smoothly it was difficult to tell her own thoughts from Mother's: I'll remember all of this.

She was treated to brief images to go along with Vanyel's words: a winged horse 'I'm James,' soft-voiced, lurching into running, flying, a white beast with no head (??) and black oil-... fleeing? She couldn't make heads nor tails of it, and Mother's attempt at explaining found her link to be too weak as yet. Puzzled, Ananke did her best to commit this to memory but without context, she wasn't sure what to do with it, or even if she would remember. It... was probably someone she should avoid, at least; that was the impression that she got.

The white rabbit went back to nibbling at the gift of fruit, pondering it all. "So... the fuzzy white stuff... and the things with many eyes... are bad. I do not--I don't want to go... near scary things. With teeth, and claws-..." She glanced up apologetically at Vanyel. It was why she didn't want to be too close to him, even now; it was a constant battle, it seemed, between her desire to seem friendly and her terror of his vaguely predatory features. So she-... tried for humor, for the first time. "I guess... that's--that you know that already," she offered, with a slight huff of self-deprecating laughter.

With Mother's presence slipping from her mind, she found herself wondering about something else the dragon-man had said. "You said... a starry cave? What is--starry? Are there--safe places, bad places, too? Um--if I'm not..." she hesitated, struggling to find the right words. 'Being annoying' sounded too blunt. "...bothering, you?" was what she settled on, her voice so hushed it could barely even be heard.

And then, wondering--at his knowledge, at how to gain such information herself, in general--"How did you learn all that?"

He sure mentioned his mom a lot. Four, five times in a few seconds? Some might have found that weird, but for the little bunny--whose "Mother" lived in her head and whispered constant encouragement--it seemed perfectly, one hundred percent normal. It was probably a similar thing--right?

"You know a lot," she observed quietly, a little bit impressed. He must have travelled far, and met a great many strangers, to know such things. "You must be very brave." She wondered how one did that--became brave--but eyed Vanyel over again, and decided that having great wings, and claws, and scales, probably had something to do with it.

Not, in other words, being a tiny prey animal just waiting to be caught and eaten. "Stars... sound very pretty," she went on. She was full, now, and rocked back on her haunches, tucked up into a tiny white ball as she cleaned her face and whiskers with soft forepaws and tongue. Tiny ears flattened back as she did this, and she seemed more comfortable, now, in the half-dragon's presence. "Is that place--is it far from here? I might go there, someday. Not today," because she was tired, weary and worn out, from all of this excitement.

But directions... those could be nice! And Vanyel did seem nice.

Admiration, again.

Imagine being brave. It seemed an impossibility, somehow: destined to remain as far out of her reach as those stars that only winged things could snatch away.

Vanyel's constant fidgeting made her nervous, though; she found herself scooting back a little into the brush. Each time a tap, or twitch, or thump occurred, she started ever-so-slightly as her attention jerked to the limb in question. It was instinct--all instinct--but it wasn't something she could shut off, and it slowly built tension in her.

She tried not to show it; instead she put on a friendly face, as best she could, keeping her voice light. "Not far... is good. Thank you. Crystals?" she pondered this. That sounded--interesting? She didn't really know what crystals are, but somehow her mind thought they might be pretty to look at. Rocks--maybe?

As for the invitation, though, it filled her with immediate and unexplainable dread. She couldn't have said quite why. Vanyel was perfectly friendly; heck, having a predator as a companion and a friend was probably the smart thing, right? And for once, Mother wasn't behind it; she was lurking in the background, unobtrusive and uninvolved. It was just a vague sense that... that committing to anything was bad. That she'd say yes, and then have to build up courage to find Vanyel again, fighting past her fear all over again, her worry; her anxiety that she might say the wrong thing, do the wrong thing, or even--yes--get eaten.

But--saying no, politely-? How could she do that? She hesitated, uncomfortable, fidgeting now herself. "Maybe" would be half a lie--she didn't intend to follow through. "Maybe--another time?" she offered, at last, quiet and a little ashamed to be turning down such a nice stranger. Well, was he still a stranger-? "But... I hope you can catch the stars," she added, a positive note in her voice.

That sounded nice--catching stars.

So: crystals were clear stones... and they did funny things to one's reflection. Ananke focused on committing this to memory, her face scrunched up for a moment in deep concentration. She didn't consciously notice Vanyel's tapping stop, though she found herself relaxing--she just didn't quite know why.

Bring you a star?

Her eyes grew wide as she peered up at the half-dragon. Now she felt rather bad for telling him no; it seemed to be a no-win, for her. That wasn't his fault, though; he'd been nothing but kind. A star, though--how amazing would that be..?

Her little brow furrowed as she thought, again, about how he'd said she owed him nothing. A tiny spark of determination welled up. Well, maybe she could offer something? Knowledge of her own, or... or anything else?

"I can't... think of much, but if it ever helps... if you don't know how. Look," she said softly, and, scrunching up her nose, did her best to conjure up a little light. It flared out in phosphorescent blue-green, a little glowing ball--cool to the touch--that rose up before her. "You can make, um. These. If you can't?" she suggested, quietly. "And..." She looked off to the left, sending the wisp bobbing out over the foliage. "...use it to light the dark... ahead of you. I don't--know if you already know or how hard it is to learn, I--don't know much about magic, but..." She hesitated; she sounded foolish, and she knew it, stammering hopefully about things he probably already knew. She finished her sentence very softly: "...it seems nice."

Then she peered up at Vanyel, wide-eyed, hoping she hadn't somehow overstepped some boundary; the wisp bobbed gradually back over, seeming to inspect the flowers as it came.

She beamed, pleased that Vanyel found some worth in her gift--however minor a gift it was.

And the exposed--gills? The glow brightened, and she peered at them with fascination. "You glow," she said, surprised. Her amazement dipped into faint disappointment as she realized he probably didn't need her wisp--but no; he was pointing out that it was a guide. "It's a guide!" she agreed, and her joy quickly came back.

Then--promises of a reunion, perhaps; and stars.

"I'll try to find something for you," she answered. Fear flickered in her belly--could she? What if she found nothing? She'd have to try extra hard to find something that the half-dragon would like, then, and quickly she stored some mental notes of things he'd mentioned--fruits, crystals, light and stars. Oh, and his mom, too! Those all seemed like nice things.

She sat back, and found that manners flickered at the edge of her mind. "You're welcome and--thank you for... telling me all those things. They'll be helpful, I mean. -Good luck?" she finished, hoping that was a good enough goodbye, for now.