ORIGIN - On Patrol

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Timir was checking on Order, as per Vargas's instructions. It was training, or at least it was supposed to be but in practice Timir was finding it to be mostly patrolling. He'd helped clean up some of the stinky web in Gemini, and he'd been sent to check on that and Canis to ensure it wasn't just coming back full-force without the Chaos Forge's awareness.

So far, so good, except--he'd been distracted. For the last forty minutes, the Valkhound had been pacing up and down the tracks that made The Circuit. He didn't know that anyone called it that. He just knew it was a huge ring around the cave, so far as he could tell, clear of bones. And that was weird enough! But there were footprints here.

Timir wasn't looking for fungus just now. He was picking up his feet, staring at them (and their hot pink, glittering paw-pads) and then fitting them to all the strange, alien footprints he could find.

He didn't fit any of them. He wondered if he should feel... anything, about that. But so far he just kept trying, curious, like a child or someone playing a game of chance and hoping for that jackpot. If the jackpot was essentially Cinderella shoes.

To anyone at a distance, it'd look like a monster tracking something, except he kept stopping, setting a huge paw in front of him and staring at it for a moment before pressing on.

@Athebyne

Wandering aimlessly since hatch-date, as if searching for a purpose, the draconic valkhound was currently climbing on the many stalactites and stalagmites, jumping from one to the other, small paws and sturdy claws giving it a good grip in tiny crevices and ledges. Bits of rocks and dust trailed down from the ceiling whenever it latched onto a hanging stone, but it didn't seem to mind if it were giving away its position. It had little sense of what danger was, at this stage in life.

But then something caught its eye, something that was definitely not part of the bone room and it's focus on paw-holds slipped. Its next leap after that wasn't measured and its paws slipped, scrabbling for some kind of hold, but it found none that could make up for the ruined momentum. It slid down the rock slow at first and then suddenly dropped, landing into a pile of bones with a loud clatter.

It was only out of view for a moment before its head popped up, large green eyes trained in the direction of the thing it had seen. No need to worry about the bruises and scraped it just got. It fought its way out of the bones and then trotted towards Timir, as if literally nothing had just happened. "What are you looking at?" Its neck stretched out curiously, looking around at the ground near him, as if there was something special down there.

@Timir

The clatter made him jump, and when Athebyne reappeared, Timir was poised with a paw hesitantly dangling in the air, his body rigid and his full attention on that spot. When it spoke, though, he blinked and relaxed a little, putting his paw down.

He looked down at the paw, lifting it more deliberately and replacing it again before taking a step back, as if to say, 'look at this.' "These," he answered simply, and then realized he should probably elaborate. "Old... footprints? But they are in rock. What is heavy enough to leave footprints in rock..?" he asked.

Timir did not know how fossilization, mineralization and such all worked. Or even, apparently, long-dried mud. He tipped his head to and fro, studying the prints, then looked up at Athebyne. "Are you Order?" he asked, unsure. He'd been told to watch out for that, but he had no idea what it would look like if he ran into it.

@Athebyne

She followed his pointing paw at the footprints in the stone and reached out a curious paw of her own to poke at it. Indeed, footprints in rock. As if curious to see if she could replicate it, she suddenly raised a paw and smacked it down on the rock as hard as she could. Her pawpads smacked down onto the smooth rock and...did nothing. She raised her paw again, this time bringing it down with burning skin, searing the rock a bit. Still, nothing, but now there was a small burn mark.

Her ears twitched and she looked up. "That's weird. Maybe someone is really strong." Her tail swung curiously behind her as she considered a possibility. "Maybe....maybe someone carved them. Each one." That seemed like a lot of work but...maybe?

Her head tilted to the side, wide green eyes blinking slowly. "Order? No, my name is Athebyne." It had sounded like he was naming someone...perhaps confusing her for someone else. She wondered if there was someone famous that looked like her. Huh...

@Timir

Timir nodded with the awkwardness of someone who'd held maybe four conversations in his entire life, and then stared at the singed pawprint. "I'm Timir," he told the pawprint, instead of Athebyne, just because that's where his attention currently was. Again, polite discourse hadn't exactly been a point of pride in his training thus far.

"It's good you aren't Order. That's bad." His words, too, were the simplistic ones of someone yet a little young. But he visibly relaxed, and then leaned down, sniffing the other prints. "They don't smell the same. Burnt. Maybe carved," he agreed, after a moment, tentative. "But... yes. A lot." He squinted. "Why would someone do that." It wasn't a question so much as bafflement, and after a moment he shook himself, oily mane fluttering around him. He turned that squint up toward Athebyne for a moment.

"You remind me a little of Tsvetok." He did not clarify who the hell that was. "Are you fire, too?" It was in the colors, mainly: the flame-hued hide. Sure, Tsvetok only had a fiery face, but the aesthetic implications were (to Timir) the same.

@Athebyne

Timir. That was a name. First name it had gotten, huh? That was very cool. It knew somebody's name now. It tagged that conjunction of sounds with the memory of this thing's face. It couldn't tell if it was a fitting one or not, it wasn't made to understand complex ideas like that at such a young age. It was still learning things. "Mmm. Have you met Order yet?" Its head tilted, wondering what they looked like. Probably red and orange and yellow and fiery. Since he had asked if it was Order. Easy to mistake, then.

It leaned back down to the pawprints as well, finding the same conclusion. "Probably. Maybe it was just for fun. Or someone was really really bored. Or trying to trick someone." It definitely seemed like a lot of work for a single trick, but maybe it was a very very important trick.

It shrugged. You certainly wouldn't find Athebyne carved pawprints into the ground.

It glanced at Timir with confusion, head tilting. "Um. No, I'm not Fire, I'm Athebyne. I already said." He was saying weird things. It didn't understand what he was asking.

@Timir

His mind slogged to catch up with the conversation. Athebyne's confusion confused him in turn, and he had to think for a moment before reaching the obvious conclusion. "Oh-... are you new?" he asked, wondering if they'd just hatched. "They're not names. It's, um. Fire is... a kind of magic. It's hot. Burny. Bright," he explained, watching the draconic stranger to see if any of that seemed to ring a bell.

He stretched a little, idly, thinking.

"Order's... another magic, I think. White and smells bad, I heard. But it can take over your mind if you aren't careful. We're training to fight it. I think." Timir still wasn't up on all the specifics of the war.

@Athebyne

Its eyes widened a bit as understanding dawned on it. Ahh, right, not a name but an aspect. What element sways them, then? It did not know them all, but it knew it had an affinity for one. As if flexing its muscles to test their strength, fire began to glow within its eyes and warmth spilled off its spiky fur. It blinked and nodded. "I understand. Yes, I am Fire. I can create...heat. No fire yet. But I will." It was something it had found itself desiring. More now that it was thinking about it, but it craved the sight of flame. It could imagine itself springing fire forth from its jaws, from its body and tail and such.

It looked from the pawprints back to Timir, leaning in close as if to inspect him. It could try and guess, maybe, its magic. It hadn't seen anything from it, but it wracked its mind for ideas. It remembered the lightning of the Spire, the sparking intensity and its shimmering iridescence. Timir kind of reminded it of that. "And...you are....sparks? Electric? Am I right?" Its tail swished behind it, so sure that it was correct in its assumption. Its head tilted, adding on, "We are training? Who is we?"

@Timir

Timir blinked and recoiled a bit, visibly taken aback at the assumption. Sparks? It wasn't that the idea bothered him, it was just so far out of left field that for a moment he felt like he'd been slapped, not knowing how to react.

"No?" he blurted, after a moment. "It's-" Timir hesitated, then glanced off and upward, one paw raising uncertainly. Better to just demonstrate, he decided, and magicked forth a blast of wind that howled briefly past, ruffling his fur and making him squint. Then it was gone. "That. Air. Wind, noises. Or no noises--I can make it silent. Make it hard to breathe," he went on.

But that hadn't been Athebyne's only question, so he continued, blinking again. "Oh. The Chaos Forge. In Draco." He was as succinct as ever, not sparing much in the way of descriptive language. "We are Chaos and we fight the Order part. I'm with them until we go to war. There's a war," he added, unaware that maybe this should be kept a little quiet. "-Or, there will be."

@Athebyne

Ah, wrong then? Athebyne looked momentarily put out and disappointed. Although whether it was disappointed in itself for answering wrong, or disappointed in Timir for not being electricity element as it had guessed, was unclear. "Hm. I see." Its eyes looked over the valkhound, trying to judge and measure this information against it. "Wind? You don't look it." It imagined wind-creatures to be...flying. Winged. Something like that. Not four legged and grounded. Although it supposed it wasn't impossible.

But ah! Not important anymore because it was hearing something, now, that was far more interesting. "War?" It leaned forward a bit. "Going to fight? I'd like to fight." It was itching for it, really. Nobody had dared to threaten it since it hatched and it found itself mildly disappointed about that. "Can anyone go? Or do you have to be...part of Chaos?" It didn't know if it qualified.

@Timir

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