ORIGIN

Traveling used to bear with it an exciting promise of new explorations in a world she knew little to nothing of but now that she'd seen every room and tunnel, there was no longer that sense of newness. It was not to say that she did not enjoy her fleeting time within each place, never immobile at any point, but that it risked falling into the mundane. Part of the reason was that Delphine was fickle by nature, she was easily swayed by distractions and faltering interests. So it came as no surprise that the marvels of each room could only entertain her for so long before it became more of a habit, home even, then something to fawn over as she used to. The mare missed those little joys that she used to derive where now there were only questions.

She thought she'd found reprieve in her time spent in Orion but the moment she left, already her mind found itself swarmed in thoughts of the if's, and's, and why's. It was at once frustrating and perhaps the only thing that kept her moving from one place to the other. There was more likely a chance she wound find her answers through her nomadic trips rather than to isolate herself to one area unless it was for the purpose of practice as she constantly reminded herself to do. If ever she intended to get stronger, it would only come with the mastery of her mind and magic.

He had been heading in the other direction, and he had been walking there.

He needed more grass for his nest: grass, ferns, anything he could pick up in Eridanus. And he'd flown into Pisces, too, to check on the others. But flying--well. Sometimes he flew flat-out face-first into walls, and that was never pleasant. As a result, half the time he hobbled along; other times he risked it, risked the flight. Today, though, he had felt like walking.

Then he'd heard something--something ahead down the tunnel, hard and scraping. He froze, huddled against the tunnel wall, not realizing that he was standing in a well-lit area. Hell, the whole tunnel was bright, but Dark didn't know that.

Breathing. From high. It was something large, approaching, and despite the slow steps, it was coming fast. Long legs, then, most likely.

When Delphine rounded the corner, there the owl would be sitting, fluffed up and staring unseeing directly at her, as if he'd been waiting there in silence for hours.

Which... he hadn't, but it never hurt to look ominous and mysterious, right?

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She heard talons clicking against the tunnel floors but knew not the source or origin, only that it was inarguably avian. Curiously, Delphine followed the source, rounding a bend just in time to see verdant unseeing eyes glimpsing directly toward her. The recognition was instant and her heart very nearly threatened to jump out of her chest altogether as her lips curled into a bright smiles. "Dark!" The equine exclaimed before swallowing the distance between them with a few short strides, then proceeding to press her nose firmly but gently against the soft tufts of his wing. "Whatever are you doing here? Did you know I was coming? You certainly look like it."

And indeed he did, coming off as more ominous and all knowing than she imagined he knew, the owl was once more inclined toward the esoteric. She nickered then, exhaling a soft plume of warmth along his smaller frame. "How have you been, my friend?" As she asked, her gaze then proceeded to rove his figure to ensure that he was not worse for wear. She had often thought on him, concerned for his well-being and that his sight may prove an impediment to his daily rituals but when she worried herself to such an extent, she also reprimanded herself for doubting him. He'd survived all this time without anyone, surely he would be fine still.

Dark peered up quizzically, hooting in surprise and lifting flattened eartufts to stand upright when the horse suddenly nuzzled him, her much larger muzzle pressing and prodding here and there. He was indeed unharmed, and soft-feathered, and he spread his wings a little and staggered to keep his balance.

He hooted softly in response to her questions, fluffing himself back down again.

"I'm okay. I didn't know? I was just going... places," he finished lamely, looking briefly rather confused. It was almost as if he'd already forgotten where he was going, what he was doing. Or perhaps mysteriously lying, maybe waiting for Delphine all along and covering for it. But not really, probably.

"...Hi. Are you okay?"

He clicked his beak briefly, rather confused as to how to proceed, now that his journey had been abruptly stopped. He was socially inept on the best of days, and now he didn't quite have a clue what to say.

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She smiled and laughed at his answered turned inquiry with a friendly tilt of her head, "My silly friend, you looked like you knew exactly what was happening. When I turned the bend you were looking right in my direction." Delphine explained with ease though his lack of social know-how was not entirely lost on her. She hummed, making an active effort to make more audible gestures so to accommodate Dark's lack of ability to see her occasional smiles and flickers of warmth. "I am well, better actually. I spent some time practicing my magic and I discovered something new! I think I can forge armor but I can't do it alone." As always, she was eager to fill in the owl on her discoveries without really considering for a moment whether he particularly cared to hear; she certainly hoped he did.

"I think I need fire and someone who's deft with their... Hands...? I don't think hooves would work." She admitted at last before before deigning to fall into a moment of silence to contemplate his situation. "Well if you remember what it was you were doing, perhaps I could accompany you part of the way? What has come to pass since last we met?"

"Pass? Nothing passed. I just heard you coming," he explained. Sort of.

Then he turned, shuffling around Delphine and toward Eridanus.

"Going to get grass, and things. Ferns. Softer stuff than Cetus has. I've been going back and forth between places, and scouting, too. What's 'armor?' What's 'forging?' What's 'hands?'" he asked in rapid succession. He'd never heard any of these words, so truth be told, he hadn't a clue what Delphine was on about.

He didn't seem to have much else to say, in fact, bar his mild questions--nor did he display much emotion, bar that faint curiosity. He might have come across indifferent to his sudden reunion with Delphine, in fact; his mind was elsewhere, in truth. He hooted softly as he waddled off, seemingly assuming that the horse would make good on her offer of accompaniment, and speak while they walked.

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Her head cantered to the one side, forgetting how easily the owl confused her with his wandering mind and seemingly random statements. Her brows furrowed as she worked to put the pieces together, only nodding with a small 'ah' as indication of her acknowledgment. Then she found herself trailing along beside, if not slightly behind, Dark. It was clear that something was off. As it was he'd never been particularly talkative but this time around there was almost an indifference about him. She wondered if she'd done something to offend him, fearing almost instantly that he no longer wished her company or even companionship. Yet he had not dismissed her if that were the case.

"What for?" She asked. "Well armor is like this thing you wear over you, something that's hard and can withstand damage. So say someone accidentally kicks me, if I were wearing an armor, I wouldn't feel anything or maybe I'd feel less. It's supposed to protect you. It could help you in your flights." Delphine added before being bombarded by another set of questions. "Well, forging is when you create armor. I can draw the metallic pieces to my body but I can't put them together. Hands are those things that those furry creatures use to grab things. It's like your claws but less pointy and more of the toes."

Finally she spoke the question that lingered on her mind, "Are you alright, Dark? Did something happen?"

Dark peered up at Delphine, unseeing but quizzical.

"Everything is okay," he answered, gentle and mild as usual. He kept on walking, seemingly mulling over the horse's words.

"Are these hands?" he asked, pausing to hold up one taloned foot, fuzzy white with two long, curving black claws front and two back. They clasped lightly together like a pincer, then a moment later opened as he set it back down and carried on down the tunnel.

He didn't seem unfriendly, or even all that standoffish--just mild, absent. Perhaps he was just absent-minded.

"What's 'metallic' mean? Why do you need fire and hands?" he chirped up, curious as ever.

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"I see." She responded softly, her countenance warming to the owl's gentle voice. How easily she was placated and not soon after, distracted by yet another set of questions to which she was only too eager to respond. "No, I believe those are claws or talons, I'm not too sure what the difference is but hands are more... Um... Oh they're so hard to describe." A strange epiphany as she mauled over how to properly paint a portrait of what she herself had truthfully never seen. "Well I have hooves, dogs and cats have paws, and I think perhaps... Oh I'm not too sure what has hands."

Though she seemed to know more, the truth of the matter was, when it came down to explaining herself the task was incredibly difficult particularly when she wanted to make sure she was not feeding her friend the wrong information. "Well metallic is... The quality of the metal or stone or... It's... Harder than rock, I believe... And can be formed into certain shapes which is why we can make armor of them. I need fire because I can't just bend the metal and some pieces are broken or separated so the fire would be able to melt them together. In order to shape the pieces, I need hands. My hooves are too... Not flexible? It doesn't grab like your talons do so it makes shaping things hard. Does that make sense?" Delphine asked in turn.

Dark seemed to think, as he walked--then let out a sudden, rather deafening chirp that echoed in the small space.

"Like gems!" he surmised brightly--and entirely incorrectly. "Well--if I have almost-hands, then... I could help? I can't make fire, though," he added, sounding mildly disappointed by this.

The owl just kept on strolling down the tunnel, ruffling his feathers now and again but seemingly oblivious to all else. He didn't seem to mind not speaking more, after asking his question; he just strutted along, waddling, one taloned foot in front of the other.

He clicked his beak, lost in thought--or in his own little world--again already.

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