ORIGIN

Audland had decided to take a load off by dipping his big fuzzy feet in the river of Polaris. It was the nearest cave to Orion that he knew had a water source in it, plus Ursa was right there if he started to overheat. He sat on the water's edge, feeling the coolth of the river rushing underneath his peats.

The Olympics had been a rush—of color, of heat, of general overall chaos. Audland was glad it was finally over. Was that Valkhound-ish to think? Audland didn't care. No crime like a thought crime. He was so tired he was considering tipping himself into the water below.

Something internally must have heard him. Something that was not him. Or maybe it was just his body letting off steam from the fighting and running and losing before. Audland could feel the chaos gathering, the building pressure before the storm. He was getting good at pinpointing when the flare-up would be. He wasn't good at pinpointing much else about it.

FWOOM!!!

A fire sprouts and blossoms from his back in a single breath, causing him to yowl and grimace in pain and temporarily lose awareness of his surroundings for a beat. An embarrassing display of weakness, but at least no one wa—a beat too long. Before he could finish that thought, the next thing Audland heard was a SPLASH!. A big one. He could even feel it through his thick fur, on the parts of his skin that weren't actively burning. Maybe it was some kind of ffffiiiiissss...

Oh. Oh wait. That was him. Oh shhhh...Audland doesn't know how to swim!

Pathetic as it was, Audland's dignity went right out the window. He hoped someone was around to hear him scream: "HELP!!!! HEEEEELP!!!"

That little quip about burning alive/drowning was not quite so fun when one was in the middle of experiencing BOTH. Perhaps (many, MANY cycles!!!) later Audland would look back an laugh. Right now, his "joviality" looked a lot more like flailing and screaming.

So yes, he happened to be quite occupied. However, his body could still detect Phelix's squishy fruit gusher of a body, in the same way that you might be very aware of a hand rising from the grave to grab you when you're standing in a graveyard mourning the loss of a loved one. Or something. Point is, the body naturally loves to pinpoint anything that makes the situation worse, and hone in on it. The feeling of some alien bulb thing squashing into his foot did not improve anything about this experience.

Delighting by the panic, Audland's corrupted magic jolted ahead of him. Psionic tendrils attempted to strike their way into the poor pus's mantle. HELP BETTER was the general impression of will that would enter Phelix's mind.

Perhaps he would find that some level of empowering. Or terrifying. It didn't really matter which.

As fast as the fall, so came the bridge. An... ice bridge? In the middle of the running river, out of spankin' nowhere? No way Audland was that cool. No, it had to be...

Audland's body thudded rather against the wall of solid ice. This knocks some sense back into him. After which, Phelix may feel the tingle of Audland's glancing talons grasping to pull Phelix from his leg. If his claws found purchase, Audland would lift the octopus up to view them. If not, Audland would simply place two paws on the ice bridge and look around in wonder. "Well, I'll be..." The countryisms would roll off his tongue either way.

"You there. I felt yer mind, I know yer there. Was this... you?" Audland wouldn't gesture anywhere, but he figured that the icy cold elephant in the water would be obvious enough.

Impressive as it was, Audland was now in a state of mind where he could realize that it was still threatening to crack. He supposed he was a lot of weight, but given how such a small thing could pull off such a large stunt in a matter of moments, Audland had to wonder if the creature could do better. Or at least wonder what else they could do.

And what could he do, by the way, before Phelix's efforts were wasted and they were thrown back into Thrashtown again? Audland would brace his body against the ice and lift a paw to the air. Wind. Water pressure. All of it pointing toward the bridge, pushing Audland against it. Maybe he could change that?

Instantaneously, Corruption lunged from Audland's body, with almost more force than he could physically bear. For a moment he felt it, and quite nearly saw it; the boar headed beast that leapt in the opposite direction from the current's flow, using Audland as its launch pad. He felt its claws press deep into his shoulders as it left him.

And after that, the winds above the river seemed to equalize with unsettling ease, as though they had just heard the insult that brought the room to complete quiet. They flowed less in the direction of the river's course. The pressure lifted, and the water level began to rise in their area. From this point, Audland could get only the bridge and climb out of the water.

He would take Phelix with him if Phelix wished it. It was inadvisable to be stuck in the river's path when the pressure came crashing back down.

When Phelix nips at him, Audland takes in a sharp breath. Papercuts do hurt us big people, you know. But he doesn't shake Phelix off. For the sake of getting out of the water, the highly perturbing feeling of octopus in his fur is noted, but ignored. Audland continues to heave himself onto the ice bridge with a grunt of effort before crawling onto shore. He doesn't have the gracious balance or lightness of physique to cross this bridge on two feet. He fails to notice Phelix's scream of agony, but he does catch that noises were being made.

He doesn't respond until he's on solid ground again. Hands and knees on the earth, where they should be. Then he can pay attention to the little octopus crawling on him with its weird little suckers. Somehow, though, Audland isn't all that bothered by Phelix's presence or anatomy. He feels like he's seen weirder in visions and dreams, and to be honest, this little guy is... kind of cute.

Audland watches Phelix move with a cat-like curiosity. He's listening to the story; he's especially watching the frozen tentacle wave around. It's delightful. Audland's intrusive thoughts win, predictably. Two delicate claws come over Phelix's head and steadily lower until Audland's talons are primed to pinch Phelix's frozen tentacle right were the ice meets the skin. If Phelix doesn't understand quickly enough, his tentacle will be plucked off like a grape from the vine and promptly popped into Audland's mouth.

With simultaneous crunching noises or without, Audland would answer Phelix's question next: "That thing in yer head was me, kiddo." And this is where Audland would swallow down his first piece of calamari, if he had any. "Or, my element. Chaos, or corruption, or whatever. That's what makes the whispers on the water, too. Y'ain't never met a valkhound before?"

Audland stands up. Maybe Phelix is still on his palm when he does; Audland wouldn't remove him. In his unoccupied hand, Audland would try to summon a cold fire. A small black flame would begin to lick his palm, its tendrils floating upward from between his fingers. Audland would offer the clawtips of his flaming hand to Phelix in a sort of handshake.

"What's yer name, small fry? I'm Audland."