ORIGIN

Warrior watched, idly curious. When Coyote found a way to carry the stones, he nodded, and turned. Already he was searching, again, though he remained always alert for danger. "I've carried others on my back, before. You're welcome to jump up, if you get tired. I won't fly with you there," he added. He wasn't sure how that would go. Most likely, a falling canine. He wasn't sure how he felt about a predator being up there, either, even one as small as she was; something instinctive made him twitch at that idea.

When he cast his magic out, this time, he felt a backlash that whipped through the gemstone horn atop his head. At the same instant it was like the entirety of Hydra lit up in his sight: blinding, painful, like the whole cave was magic.

"Oh-..." he said, hissing in a pained breath. He cowered back, closing his eyes for a long moment, shuddering until it passed. "...My magic-... It, uh. Didn't cooperate."

After a moment he dared to open them again, though a slow and throbbing ache remained.

Warrior offered a faint nod. "I will be fine, thank you."

It took him a moment nonetheless to gather himself and set off again, moving at a slow but steady stride. "So, tell me-..." and he interrupted himself, glancing back with amusement. "I was about to start a conversation, ask where you are from, but I forgot you're carrying that." He laughed a little at himself, then looked forward again, lifting his head to scan the terrain. "I suppose you know how dangerous Hydra is. It means Gembounds die here all the time. Moreso during Trials, but... those, they don't leave their stones. The Merchant destroys them. Something about culling the weak." He said this grimly, then shook his head. "But the others, anyone else who dies out here, and all the Lessers that get eaten before they can turn to Oil, their stones are everywhere. Some places are more dangerous than others, though. It means more dangerous to search, but... more likely, too. And the cave's not that bad, not since the last Trial. I wonder if that's why he pacified it..?" he mused aloud. "So he could open this other cave-? Anyway-... There is one thing I can think of."

He changed his angle, plodding up toward where the river would spill out down into the Dead Marsh. "The river, it empties out up here. Have to be careful for when it floods. But it carries all sorts of things down. Gemstones, probably. Certainly the dead--anyone and anything caught in its floodwaters. But there's no flood now, so we can check around where it spills out." That seemed wise, to him.

He hesitated, the pain fresh, before trying again. But as they drew closer he cast his magic out. "There," he said, after a moment, never slowing his pace. "Under that cluster of dead tree branches on the left. There's something in the mud down there. Be careful--sometimes it's quicksand," he warned.

He was still slowly scanning, though one ear was on her as hers had been on Hydra. "I do know. I lived here, much of my life, but I did travel, too." He focused for a moment on the landscape, letting Coyote dig. After a moment, something jarred his senses; the idle search for magic found something powerful. It wasn't... right, though, and Warrior tried to focus on what was wrong with it. "There's something else, but... wait here."

He set off, striding toward where he felt something in the muck beneath where the river fell. He was close enough here to the little trickles that the river's spray began to coat him with a damp sheen. To and fro he paced, then paused--Here. This was where it was. He dug with his hooves, then hastily pulled back as the sickly Oil-black gleam of something corrupted became visible. It was powerful, but hot to the touch even to his hooves. "You'll need to be very careful with this," he warned. "It is Chaos, I think."

He hesitated. "At least this one couldn't have been a child. I suppose that's why he'd need stones, yes."

"I can get them, in a moment," Warrior answered, glancing down at them. Three, but all small enough for him to fit into his mouth, at least. It'd be... awkward, and gross (considering where they'd undoubtedly come from), but doable.

Enough to earn a reward, as morally questionable as it might have been. "Careful not to touch that," he said, despite the caution the coyote was already showing. He then picked his way past, looking up and down the river's end.

"There. Weaker, but still strong," he announced, setting off at a quick trot. He had to get almost under the spill of the river to get there, and even then had to dig with hooves and mouth both to uncover it: a bizarre-looking gemstone. It was a deep, rich blue cube, but encased in a second, perfect cube of transparent stone. A Carletonite, though he didn't know the word. "Do you think this is enough?" he asked, looking back to Coyote.