Well what do you know, he's made it beyond Polaris! Of course, he had no idea where he was going when he'd began to wander. It was more like, "one step, two step, three step - tail? That's not right --" and yeah, Saul tumbled some of the way. He'd clambored over stones and slunk beneath the glowing objects in his path, until they tapered out and all he could see was dirt; but it was warm, so he wasn't yet afraid.
The farther he went the wetter the air became. He had mastered the artful tongue-flick by this point. Sometimes when he felt extra bold, he'd reach his tongue out as far as he could and prod himself in the eye with it! It wasn't a nice feeling, and it didn't taste so great either.
The trench came out of nowhere, I'm telling you.
Saul had mostly gotten the hang of his legs, but the problem arose when the path split and he wasn't really paying attention, so he was standing there at the edge unknowingly, palming the humidity until he'd tipped too far forwards and -- oop! Down he went! Tumbling head over tail into the dark; landing awkwardly with his face buried at the base of some ferns.
He sat like that a few minutes before sitting up and grinding a piece of fernleaf between his teeth, like cud. It tasted better than the stones had, and definitely better than his eyeball, but there was still something unfulfilling about it.
What had began as a nap, just a little moment to herself as she took root, had quickly turned to something else. Something not quite tree-beast or elf, but distinctly gembound. One second she was daydreaming peacefully, and then her thoughts flew away from her and-
Their many eyes fluttered daintily awake, strange colours dancing before them, much different from the greens of the foilage from when they were last conscious. If they had a brow to furrow, they'd do so now, confused but relatively unfrightened. The moments they had like this would be few, as soon as they realised their situation (Or more accurately, remembered) the chrysalis ruptured and promptly collapsed, leaving a naked, bleary dryad in its wake. How long had they been asleep?
Eridanus seemed much the same, plantlife thicker than last it saw perhaps. It felt unoccupied, lonely, or maybe that was it projecting. Adenium found itself wandering, heading nowhere in particular, and yet still searching. A familiar face, someone to helpfully tell it just how much time had passed since the deathmatch. It felt like a while.
5, 8 cycles?
The rustling of ferns causes them to swivel and freeze, much like a deer in headlights. They waited for something, a word, another movement, but they let what felt like hours pass and was met with nothing but silence. Something was there, they knew. They took a few long-legged strides towards the source, curiousity overwhelming them. Caution and wariness still tugged at their limbs, slowing their usual breakneck pace. "Hello?" They called out, testing.
@Saul
Adenium continued its careful gait, eyes pinned to the ground. It was especially careful where it stepped, not wanting to crush its new company underfoot so soon. Despite its focus, it didn't make out the little shape until it was quite close, the flickering of light from his head finally drawing its gaze.
"Oh, hello," She repeated at the sight of the lizard, this time with enough warmth in her voice to melt Ursa. They were just so gosh darn cute! She couldn't tell if he was young or just normally that tiny, but she didn't stop to think about the potential patronising (or matronising) effect her words might've had.
She didn't quite know how old she was herself at this point too. She felt larger, a bit stronger, but maybe that was from the killer nap she had just woken from. She felt bigger, but not older. Maybe that was something you got from spending most of your cycles conscious.
While she was close, she was far enough so as not to loom over the little reptile, lowering to a squat as she gazed at the flickering creature expectantly. Her bioluminescence had shifted to a bright pink, warm and maybe overwhelming. "Who are you?"
The pause that followed was tense, though the stakes here were very low. The worst that could happen, the outcome that Adenium dreaded even so, was that the creature would scurry away at their approach, leaving them to continue their search for someone to talk to. Its not that they didn't mind looking, they'd enjoy any opportunity to stretch their long-dormant limbs, they just couldn't stand the waiting. Adenium was not the patient type, despite their ancestry.
Quietly, carefully, the creature made his approach, and the dryad fought to stay still, to not fidget or twitch, lest they push their luck with the little reptile. They did nothing but gaze down at the beast, let it interact with them on its own terms. Those terms, it turned out, included a lick. Conflict surged in Adenium at this contact. On the one hand, ewohmygodgetawayfromme, but on the second (well, other than a tongue on the knuckle), if they flinched or pulled away they might frighten the lizard, or fling it away on accident. They twitched, displeasure present in the way their glow quickly shifted to purple, but they'd tolerate it. Barely.
The seconds before the he withdrew stretched just a little too long, but he did eventually. Adenium moved back, shifting so that she could sit cross-legged, shaking her tainted hand as she did so to rid it of any... residue. Now much more stable, she considered the reptile's response. More of a noise than a word, like the coo of a baby. The sentience of her new friend was brought into question, and Adenium was starting to doubt that she'd get any worthwhile answers from the little fellow. "What's your name? Mine's Adenium."
@Saul
The lizard watched as the creature lifted a limb - or what they assumed was a limb - and flickered a little bit with movement. He didn't know that it was repulsion that crept across that face, or that there was a moment of threat there with the hand raised; that this many-eyed thing could easily flick their wrist and send his body flying. Thankfully that didn't happen.
This creature made more noises.
It sounded so strange, but not unpleasant in any way. Soft sounds that compounded together. Was this creature waiting for something? Maybe sounds from the lizard? He'd made one, maybe he could make more. What was a name?
"Naaah? Naam?" Oh, but - he knew this. Somehow. He knew that Adenium was what this thing was called, and that he had to be called something too. That was a thought which crept to lift across the pudding that was his brain, and when he connected the dots - over some painfully long moments - a dull glow manifested in his third eye.
"Sssahl. My? My! My's Sssaul."
He felt very proud of himself for that.
(I keep forgetting to tag, my b!)
It watched expectantly with all six of its sunset eyes, summoning all the quiet, calm and patience it could muster, which wasn't an awful lot. He responded with a question back, and Adenium wondered if the whole conversation was nothing more than a lost cause. He must be young, the dryad thought, settling on its conclusion quickly. This didn't do much to make it feel better, instead getting the notion that it was the fool for trying to coax worthwhile answers from what was clearly an infant.
She could see the cogs turning in his little head, hear the clack of an abacus as he struggled to put two and two together. She had offered all the patience she had, and the reptile still managed to test it. She fought the urge to shift focus, to fiddle with the undergrowth or stare blankly at some meandering insect as it made its way through the tunnels. Her attention had been dangerously close to drifting off before the lizard's gem glowed softly, and he finally answered the question.
"Saul? That's a good name." She shifted her weight, eyes sweeping their surroundings in her pondering, before settling back on her company. "Do you want to walk for a bit? I can carry you." She thought better on her feet, she reasoned. She extended a upturned hand, inviting the lizard onto her palm.
@Saul