ORIGIN

He'd been learning. An understandably difficult feat for someone like him, but he'd done it. Currency could be used and exchanged for goods and services. Currency was earned by providing a service, one he was good at, finding, killing, then not eating things.

So, its with his mental list, moths, mice, bones, that he set off on a little journey. He'd find these prizes and return and maybe, just maybe, he'd get something nice in return. Naturally, he'd chosen the path he'd related to the most after playing games with that cat-thing; the entrance that had a fearsome creature carved into the rocks, it was even decorated with the same stones he'd crawled out of twice now. It had to be a sign. It must.

You could find signs in anything if you fudged it hard enough; four stripes on his rear, four talons of the draconic figure he'd counted, four toes of his own, four pronged stalactites he'd counted as he entered the tunnel.

Very much the same signs that decided this place would be his lucky place, when he spotted the faces of monsters looking down at him, ones carved into the walls and left forgotten. These monsters must have been important; he'd be important one day too, the best predator the caves had ever seen. Perhaps he'd find his own face up there one day, he hoped so.

Yet, it was as he turned his nose to the ground, he smelt nothing. Almost nothing; only dust entered his nostrils, making him sneeze, sending the particles pinwheeling through the air. He was growing more concerned that something had happened to him in that chrysalis; why couldn't he hunt anymore?

Frustration welled and rose from the pit of his belly. He couldn't keep failing, he had to be better. He had to hunt.

Brother moved further up the tunnel; he'd grown bigger, his own footfalls had begun to echo through tunnels like these. That was some comfort in the welling frustration. Perhaps the frustration and flagellation would make him stronger. He hoped it would.

If it was too dusty to smell, then he'd listen. The magic thrummed easily, then faltered, sputtered and fell away before it reached his senses. Nothing again. Why was there always nothing? His claws clenched down onto his own palms, the tips digging into the meat at his wrists.

He could not be a failure! He was good at this! He was good at the games he'd played with others! Why would it all fail now? What had that chrysalis done to him?! Had it taken his strength? Sapped him away? Was this the price of being an eternal hunter? That each failure would take away more and more from him until he, too, became nothing more than prey?

What would happen if he fell again? Would he emerge frail and unable to support himself? Would his senses be so dulled he could not trust his own ears even when something was close?

The frustration welled, then overflowed; he crushed one foot upon the nearest rock, but it didn't crumble; it stabbed into the soft skin between his toes, and it stung. It didn't soothe his anger, it only fueled it, until before he'd even realised he'd made the motion, he was roaring at the rock. Bellowing at the top of his lungs at the inanimate object, until his lungs ached.

Brother had winced at the loud noise; like most things, the command took a moment to register. For a solid three seconds, the spinosaurus stood looking dumbfounded in the tunnel, still gawping at the rock that had menaced him. But, true to the command, he was silent. Dazed, confused, but silent.

His first inkling, was to look up towards the faces carved into the rocks. Had they been the ones that yelled at him? No, they remained as still as ever. Which naturally only left one single thing it could be.

His gaze fell to the rock he was menacing; yes, the rock had done this. No one else. Only the rock had told him to be silent and that was unacceptable. It would not take orders from a rock. It stomped on the rock, sending it skittering with the force across the tunnel. It wouldn't be getting away this easily. No, no.

Brother chased after the rock in silence, the only sounds of his footfalls until he caught up with the rock. Then he clamped down onto it with its jaws. Hoisting his prize upwards, landed it at the seam of the tip of its jaws, where most of the power was. Then, with a mighty chomp, the rock was shattered into small pieces that flew off in all directions. Defeated. Killed. He'd killed the menacing rock that sought to silence him.

The rock shattering had made his jaw ache, and the splinters of stone had chipped the flesh around his jaw somewhat, but he'd WON. The evil, shouting, rock scourge had been DESTROYED.

Brother's head whipped around at the sounds of a voice. Perhaps, a smarter creature would've been able to put two and two together. That this gembound had an eerily similar voice to the command; however, this was not a smarter gembound.

What was a 'war'? Was he headed there? He didn't think so. But, his training was pretty good, Brother all but preened under the almost-praise. Yes, he was doing pretty well. All things considered, but the gloomy thoughts of his powers disappearing seemed to have dispersed under this new distraction.

"What war?" Brother grunted out, it hardly sounded like a question. Even if it had, it was hard to tell exactly what he was asking. "Good at fight." He confirmed. He'd show this new person, yes.

He promptly reeled back and slammed his face into the nearest boulder. Which may have been impressive, had the boulder taken even a scrape of damage. Instead, there was a sickening crunch as Brother's skull collided with the boulder. The beast staggered a few steps back after quite literally ringing his own bell. His eyebrow seemed to have borne the brunt of the force; now it had an odd divot in the usually prominent shape, and it was bleeding enough to force his eye closed lest it pour into it.

A few more steps, and then the dinosaur collapsed into a heap as his world spun around him. Ouch.

Brother didn't really do anything to stop Audland from having a little taste of blood, what was he going to do about it? Headbutt another rock? Even doing that in his state would require no small amount of luck. Everything in his vision swam, having the big blue block half of it was a small relief, there was only so much, so much blue could spin in his vision.

"Hunt." Brother grunted. Slowly, oh so slowly, he scrabbled up to his feet. Turn just as slowly, turned his head to look at Audland directly. From the front, the dent Brother had made in his own skull was much more obvious. What was once perfectly symmetrical now had a certain... flatness to his right brow. Where the main impact was, if one could see under the blood, was even indented inwards. That would no doubt cause a permanent squint even after it'd healed.

Without thoughts, Brother copied Audland's gesture. Sticking his tongue out the side of his mouth, to lap at the blood that had trickled close to his jaws. He didn't see the appeal, likely because it was his own. Someone else's, however? Now that sounded like a treat.

Brother tilted his head owlishly at Audland, truthfully, it didn't know why he was laughing (or giggling). Then came more questions, Brother huffed through his nose. He always hated them. Why did people always want to know things? Couldn't they just accept things for what they were at face value and move on?

"No." Came the answer to Audland's first question.

"Bounty," another syllable grunted for another question.

"From island. Yes." A record-breaking three whole words for that answer. He only knew what Audland meant by island because the swim to and from was getting to be a real pain. Perhaps if he had the energy to think, he'd wonder how creatures less capable of swimming made the journey back and forth. He lacked the finesse to let Audland know he wasn't exactly native to the island, just happened to be chrysalis'd on it.

Maybe once his head had stopped hurting and spinning, he'd nibble at this gembound for asking annoying questions, but for now, he was struggling to remain upright without even moving.