ORIGIN

This trench was easily the most prehistoric-looking place in the cave—not that she'd know of dinosaurs and the Mesozoic era or any other Earthly division of time.

No, no, Vakornol knew the terrors of the Masters' creation. She knew how best to dispose of them in combat and put them to their absolute limit of endurance and stamina with her bobbing-and-weaving. It was something about testing for rigorous conditions, maximizing efficiency, whatever.

You'd think that a (comparatively to most things in this cave nowadays) enormous wolf-shark-monstrosity the color of a particularly violent orchid and acid would have great difficulty employing any stealth tactics amid the trench's towering ferns; but, no—that was another thing that she knew. The carollers would continue in their song even as she plodded along the gorge's length, stopping to sniff at dusty bones embedded into the walls and ground. A rustle of ferns with one spiked shoulder could just as easily pass as a small creature darting through the undergrowth.

What on earth was a nearly-refined murder machine doing in Eridanus? Hell if Vakornol knew—and she'd laugh if anyone asked her that question. She was just looking at stuff and minding her business.

Right now, a peculiarly hand-shaped smudge of orange... paint? was capturing her interest. It was glassy on the surface, but opaque with a rich sort of color. There were some little flies stuck to it, and of course the valkhound was inclined to crouch down and lick the spot.

This was to no avail. Those things were stuck for good.

@Skogul

Skogul was doing what she loved to do a lot of the time. She was eating vegetation in Eridanus and the food tasted great as always. As she moved along eating any vegetation in site she saw it. A weird gembound that looked like a mix of creatures. Well, every gembound was unique after all. She paused her eating and swallowed the remaining food in her mouth before walking over. "Hello! My name is Skogul, I'm a malayan tapir. Who and what are you?" Skogul meant no disrespect in her question. She had just never seen a gembound like this one before.

@Vakornol

When Vakornol wasn't licking paint, she was turning to check out whoever'd started talking to her.

On instinct, chartreuse eyes gave the tapir an appraising once-over—noticeable only in the slight tip of her head as she looked Skogul up and down. Pretty stumpy, diminutive, looks like a Lesser with those hooves... but talking to her nonetheless, grass in her mouth. "Pleased to make your acquaintance," the monstrous hound crowed easily, "Vakornol, at your service."

(Not really at her service, but it was a fun phrase, all right?)

As for what she was... she waved a meaty paw dismissively with a chuckle. "I don't care much for the labels outside of 'bound—you, I'm assuming—and 'hound—that'd be me—these days. We're all pretty much the same at the end of the day." Her eternal Cheshire grin spread wider with a squint of her eyes. "Bunch of things looking to be the best to survive, wouldn't you say?"

@Skogul