ORIGIN

His claws were not made for digging. They were strong but not made for removing dirt and though he managed to scoop some out more dirt just fell to cover up what he took away. A snarl of frustration escaped his maw. He wanted that newborn and he wanted to... to do something to him. Kill him if he could. Perhaps killing him would stop the fear. Yes. The fearbringer must die. He just had to get into the burrow where the cowering prey lay sheltered.

What happened next he didn't expect. The fearbringer scuttled away from the burrow and attempted to escape. No! No one was escaping! He wanted to eat the newborn and to kill the fearbringer. He would not fun! The dragon roared his rage at the numbat who was attempting to get away... Or was he? The creature scuttled up his leg. In his state he didn't understand the point... Was he trying to fight? Could he sense his fear and was going in because of that? The dragon snarled. It was suicide if that was his logic. Despite that strange fear he would not be beaten by one so small.

His mouth opened as he turned his neck round to try and get at the numbat. His goal was to catch the creature fully in his mouth and swallow it down. Perhaps eating that which brought fear would dispell it. In any case his blood would no doubt be delicious.

---

Booker had made it as far as Baratheon's back thigh when he spotted it - the dragon's gem, pink and flashing in the morning light, something he'd only ever caught glimpses of. If he could just reach out and grab at it, maybe he could get through to the dragon, something past this infernal rage and closer to instinctual fear. The numbat reached out and up, up, up, and then another snarl sliced through the air, and he barely clung on to the rampaging beast as it swerved. Swerved for what reason, he wasn't sure, and Booker clenched his eyes shut as the world swam around him, clinging to white fur when -

Oh. A pained screech ripped out of the tiny Gembound's throat as a fang pierced through his back leg, ripping through muscle and sinew, dodging bone and coming out the other side. Booker flailed, pinned to the tooth and Baratheon lifted his head up, the ground quickly vanishing below as adrenaline rushed to his head, vision growing spotty with blood loss. As the dragon's jaws closed, more gleaming fangs loomed, and the numbat froze, time slowing down. I'm going to die. I'm going to die. Distantly, he could hear his own pained wheezes, and farther away - Baratheon, growling, the sound surrounding him.

I am not going to die. With a fierce shriek, Booker twisted, wrenching his lame leg off of the incisor, dropping down onto Baratheon's tongue and racing over his gums and out of his mouth... and promptly falling, gripping onto the white fur of the dragon's chin, head pounding and leg gone numb. Diot. Focus. You will not let another child die. A dry swallow, and then he was falling, barely managing to clutch onto the shorter fur of Baratheon's legs, shoulders wrenching as they stalled his momentum. One breath, two, and he was moving again, movements stilted and awkward as he tried to climb towards his brother's gem.

The bright pink stood out amongst the dragon's pelt, and Booker crawled towards it across the dragon's stomach, hanging on with front legs and one back leg, the other twitching and bleeding sluggishly. Finally, finally, finally he reached it, clinging on to the stone with all four paws, wheezing and muttering, trying to stay awake. "Come back, come back, come back!"

"Baratheon Speech"

He could feel it then. The fearbringer wanted his gem. The feral dragon knew instinctively that this was a weak point. No one was allowed to touch it! It could bring death if not carefully monitored. Enraged all the more the dragon could feel one of his fangs grab onto the numbat's leg. That pained shriek made a thrill of joy run up his spine and that blood on his tongue made him want even more of the numbat. It worked him into even more of a frenzy.

When it was in his mouth he thought it was over and done. His teeth clamped together but then he could feel it crawling all over him, back down to his gem. He roared angrily and rose onto his hind paws as he attempted to swat at the tiny mouthful. However, he was too slow for the quick beast and every time his paw came down it was already gone.

Finally the creature made it to his leg again and before the dragon could make a move to grab him he touched his target. Almost instantly the dragon felt as if someone was reaching into his very soul at the touch. His body twitched and he fell backwards onto his rump with an almost pained wail. It was speaking now but he still couldn't understand, he could only feel the touch. It felt as if someone was digging down inside of him and pulling at his very essence.

The part of him that thought, the part that wasn't ruled by hunger fought to escape. It couldn't ignore the call, the pull that wanted to bring it out no matter if he wanted to or not.

Red eyes locked onto the numbat and glared but the red was flickering, pulling away as the pink started to flood into his gaze. The white dragon began to pant and with one final roar he fell forward onto his forepaws, his gaze was locked onto the ground as the last bit of red began to get sucked from his vision.

When it was finally gone he blinked, the feeling was still there. The weight on his stone that let him know someone was touching it. However, when he wasn't in his feral state of mind it wasn't so invasive, wasn't so jarring... it almost felt nice but what didn't feel nice was the weight of his former actions. Former or no, there were things that he couldn't take back.

"What have I done...?" His eyes clenched together while tears poured out of them. Even though most of his actions were a red haze he still remembered them.

He wished he was dead...

Forehead pressed to the cold gem, paws digging into the fur around it, Booker clenched his teeth as the dragon moved, breath hitching as every sway brought a fresh wave of pain from his shoulders and tattered leg. Eye tightly shut, the numbat hung on tighter as his brother finally collapsed back to the ground, panting, and slowly, he opened his working eye to peer around, taking stock. His vision was shot - the monocle had been lost in the fight, hopefully not crushed by a wayward paw - and dots of black and white danced about the forest floor. The smell of smoke grew heavier with each inhale, and Booker thumped his head against the pink gem, trying to focus.

You have to move. You're not done yet. Sluggishly, the numbat pulled his eye open once more, finally relinquishing his grip on the stone, sliding down to the damp earth with a wheeze. Blinking, he tried to focus, a loud buzz droning in his ears. For a moment, the forest was silent, save for the shared breaths of the unfortunate duo. Then, a voice - and Booker's head shot up to stare the underside of Baratheon's jaw, eye widening. He struggled to his feet and began to walk, gait limping and awkward, and soon he broke out into a trot, then a run, dragging his lame, blood-soaked leg behind him.

"Bara?" The call was weak, breathy, but the numbat didn't seem to notice, finally making it just past the dragon's paws and turning to stare up at his brother's face, hazy vision clouded further by a fresh wave of exhilarated tears. "Bara! Y-you're back!" Booker let out a strained, cut-off bark of a laugh, blinking, rubbing at a stray tear as it trailed down his face. He tried to remember, then, just what the dragon had said to break him out of the fog, and stilled.

"Baratheon," he started, desperate, unready to deal with the weight of just what had happened to his brother - especially not when he couldn't even remember whatever had made the red. "It's o-okay. Re-mem-ber? 'told ya, 's not your fault. 's the... bloodlust, not you," he slurred, voice growing softer by the moment, intact eyelid drooping down.

Still, he paused, peering over his shoulder, sighing in relief at the sight of a tiny living shield, and no sign of injury. Safe. They're both safe. It's alright, now. Time to rest. "D-Diot," he yelped, "'s okay now.. I'm just gonna... take a nap," he finished with a whimper, collapsing onto his side with a grunt, the taste of burnt moss thick in his stomach, the burn of iron in his mouth.

"Baratheon Speech"

The dragon sank to the ground, muzzle buried in the snow-white fur of his arms. He wished there was a way he could lose himself in his feral state without triggering his lust for blood. He wished he could be like the lesser gembounds and just go on with his day without thinking, just perform actions without having to have the pain of memories. He was like a lesser gembound anyway when he went on his rampages anyway... He might as well not have the pain of intelligence. Alas, he did... he was cursed.

The tears flowed and dampened the downy fur on his forelegs. "Bara?" His ear twitched towards the sad sound but he didn't respond, not at first. He wanted to wallow in pity, wallow in the fact that he had hurt the one he loved. He didn't even look at first. He couldn't bring himself to do it, he just couldn't. He knew what Booker had said but it was still him... He could still taste his brother's blood in his mouth. It made him sick to his stomach...

"Your blood is still in my mouth..." He finally said, voice a low rumble. "It always will be." More tears, falling so fast and so hard that they stained the earth underneath his legs. How could he not be angry? How could he not be afraid? He knew why but it was still incredible... it made him even more guilty.

He heard the little gembound collapse and still, the guilt held him. It wasn't until he heard the sound of tiny paws pattering on the ground did he move. One pink eye lifted from its hideaway of white fur as he gazed down and analyzed the situation. The tiny newborn, the one he had previously wanted to eat, was there with his brother. It was sitting next to Booker who had collapsed onto the ground. He could wallow in guilt no longer. They were both vulnerable, both in some sort of pain after this ordeal. It was his duty to protect Booker and since Booker had wanted to protect the other young one then by extension it was his responsibility to protect the monkey as well.

"I'm sorry for what I did, little one. Forgive me... I was not myself." With that he lifted a careful paw and as gently as if he were picking newly emerged daisies from the ground he scooped them both up into the paw. He lifted them up to his face and nuzzled them gently, breathing warm air over them before depositing them on the top of his muzzle, right behind his nose horn. The blood didn't bother him right now. Probably due to his feral, bloodlusted self being forcibly sucked away by the contact with his gem.

Baratheon lay down on the ground, eyes on the two on his muzzle. "Rest easy, both of you... I will keep watch." He was no healer. There was nothing he could do to Booker except wait for his awakening and hopefully get instructions then.

Distantly, Booker felt something wrap around his wounded leg, lips twitching up into a brief smile. Diot. It had to be - and cracking his eye open, the numbat took in the blurry image of the tiny marmoset, letting out a short, wheezy sigh of relief. He's alright. You finally did it. You finally saved one of them. Still, there was something - a shimmer, in the little one's eyes, and it took Booker a moment to realize that the newborn was tearing up. "It's alrigh' now, son," he murmured, twitching a paw to pat hazily at the tail wrapped around his back leg.

Your blood is still in my mouth. It always will be. Had he the energy to rebut the guilt that rang clear in the dragon's voice, Booker certainly would have, but it seemed his brain couldn't quite connect to his mouth, now, and the little Gembound floated in a haze of numbness interspersed with fierce strikes of pain, creeping up from the puncture wound that had torn away most of the muscles in his leg. It wasn't weeping blood now, just oozing it, but considering he could barely move it, Booker gave up on believing it would be fine. At least it's not broken, he thought, panting in short breaths as the smoke began to return.

Distantly, the blood-soaked Gembound heard his brother apologizing - this time to Diot, which still deserved a remark, but less of one, and Booker's annoyance at not being able to talk faded. His son might look alright, physically, but it had to be traumatizing to be born, be found, and then be part of a bloody fight, all within the span of your first day out of the chrysalis. Booker nudged his snout a bit closer to the monkey unconsciously, the shadow of Baratheon falling over them as the dragon moved closer.

Booker's head lolled to the side as his brother picked both he and Diot up, and the numbat snuggled gratefully into the short fur, smiling weakly at the feel of the dragon's muzzle. He went boneless once the dragon deposited both he and his tiny charge on his snout, the only sign he was still conscious the pressure from tiny paws curling into Baratheon's fur, finally relaxing. "'s okay, now, Bara," he whispered, opening his eye a bit to stare into the dragon's pink eyes, clear of the dreaded red. "Got you back. 's all that matters."

And with that, he finally went under, blood loss and shock dragging his mind down into the void, trying to recover from the fight.

"Baratheon Speech"


The numbat finally slipped out of consciousness... only because of his crazed actions. He could feel the guilt clouding him, tripping him up but he closed his eyes and willed the thoughts away. He had to live in the moment, the now. He had to protect the two little ones on his snout which he would do with his life. He smiled at the tiny monkey's words and gave a rumble of gratitude.

After they both were out on his snout he turned and found a sheltered clump of ferns to lay in where he was able to keep a watch on the surroundings.