ORIGIN

Acheron had decided on a few adventures. One of those was to head here--deeper into Orion, where she already lived (which made it a nice, short trip, really)--and to explore among the crumbling, burned ruins. Her father'd told her about the dragon attack, but beyond that he hadn't known where these buildings had come from, nor why they had been built.

And the pup was a curious sort, so here she was, racing for the dark alleys. It seemed ominous, the shadowed places between the stones. Ominous, but also exciting. She paused, before entering, to try and prepare a little of that magic she'd learned--something she could set in place and then forget, but that'd provide her just a little bit of defense if it came down to it. But she didn't think much could possibly be lurking in this old city.

It looked... empty. It smelled empty. Dusty, lonely, cold. It wasn't cold, but it was cooler today, at least, the stifling heat of previous days having faded.

Acheron paused, dropping her nose to the ground, sniffing along the corner of one building; her little triangular tail waggled behind her as she focused on the smells.

What else--or who else--might be in here? Adventure called, and so she called back, howling a little "Hello?" into the shadows ahead.

...and the shadows answered.

She had almost given up--had listened to the muffled echo of her own voice twisting through the long-lost ruins, then pressed into the darkness--when the eerie call threaded toward her.

Acheron froze, ears pricking up. Her nose worked, searching for some sign of company; ears pricked to listen for another call, but none came right away. The fur along her back bristled, just a little; who or what was that? More importantly--were they dangerous? Had they seen her? What if they'd seen her, and she hadn't seen them?

Uncertain, she called out again. "Hi?" and then waited for a beat. Maybe I should use magic, she reasoned, suddenly very glad for her shield.

The stone between Acheron's shoulder blades glowed for a moment, and then she was stepping forward. She gave a big fawn's leap, and when she hit the ground she bounced: not as high as she'd have liked, but high enough that she could peer down into the ruins. She didn't see anything at first, only shadows, so she bounced up and down a few more times--just in case.

Acheron turned, startled, as a stranger came slinking from the shadows. Shadows twisted away from him as he dropped down, laughing, and she settled at once, realizing he was no threat. Surprised faded in favor of curiosity; she wasn't offended, didn't feel insulted, but rather wanted to know more. As he flattened himself back against the wall, she clicked over with careful hoof-steps.

"Poltergeist?" she parroted, head tilting a little. An unusual name, longer than usual; most of those were descriptive, like 'Giggle' had been. Then again, wasn't Acheron a little odd-? She'd just been born with an innate knowledge of it; she wondered if her own name, or the fox cub's, held any sort of meaning.

"That was you making noise?" she asked, after a moment. "Why were you doing that?" It wasn't a demand, upset; she was just interested. Did the sound, the weird and eerie almost-howl, have some sort of purpose?

She glanced around; she wondered if the smoky-furred, spooky-sounding little cub lived in the shadow of these ruins. That would be cool! she decided, and peered down at him again. "Do you live here?" she asked, pondering. "And was that, uhh--were you using magic?"

Acheron was just full of questions, for the moment.

"Geis," she repeated back, friendly and easygoing. Sounded fine by her. "'Poltergeist' sounds cool, too," she hastened to reassure, just in case her puzzlement had somehow come across as disapproval. And it was a neat name. Kinda special, even.

"Why would scaring me be funny?" Her question, as before, wasn't demanding. She just didn't understand the humor; she'd never had a prank played on her before. Fear sounded bad, right-? Acheron's father was rather... stiff, and as rigidly moral as a blessed wooden plank. Mischief, though intrinsic to her very nature, hadn't had much chance to take root as yet.

The shadows, though--that distracted her from her confusion. Pale eyes widened a touch. "Cooool," she breathed, leaning a little closer to peer at the coiling darkness. She wanted to learn that-! "How do you do that?" she asked, hoping that Geis could give her some sort of hint as to the nature of this magic.

For a moment she nearly bridled at being called dog-deer, and then realized that she really hadn't given her name--an oversight!--and could hardly be mad at being called that. Still, she snorted a little, ears sweeping back. "I'm Acheron," she answered, with a nod. "My name's weird, too."

It didn't occur to her that she was calling Poltergeist's name "weird;" she really did think his name--and hers--were cool. There was, indeed, a note of pride in her statement. She was just too young, too inexperienced and immature, to realize it might be misconstrued as an insult, were Poltergeist liable to take it that way.

She glanced off at the ruins, nose working briefly, and peered back at the fox. "So... if you don't live here, what're you doing?" she asked, again curious. "I was about to explore. It looks..."

Her gaze drifted back to the ancient, crumbled buildings steeped in shadow. Dangerous? Ominous? Mysterious? Those words were mostly beyond her daily vocabulary, as yet. "...Fun," was what she settled on, and for the most part, she meant it.

She considered, filing all this information about "pranks" away for later. She didn't quite get it, but... maybe she could ask her dad about it later. Or try it for herself.

For now-?

Well, she was a little disappointed he didn't know how his magic worked; but she hardly understood her own, herself. So she accepted that answer, though wondered if maybe someone else out there could teach her more. Still--Geis seemed up for adventure, and that was good!

"Yeah, I'd love to," she answered, nonchalant, and stepped back--shaking out her coat and stretching. "I don't know what's in there! My dad says a dragon burnt a lot of it, once, and that's why loads of it's black, but he doesn't know who built any of it. He says it was already old when he was hatched!" And so far as Acheron was concerned, her dad was probably the oldest thing anywhere.

She started off, moving aside to make room for Geis--whether he wanted to stroll alongside her, trail behind or whatever, she didn't mind, but she took his gesture at face value.

Her initial progress was slow, cautious--she moved as though expecting another scare at any moment, but with excitement rather than any real fear. Her head kept dropping low, nose sniffing at the ground as she crept into the first of the narrow alleyways.

As she did so, she asked another question that came to mind; it was accompanied by a glance at Geis.

"What's a ghost, anyway?"