ORIGIN

It had been a couple weeks since the babe wormed his way out of his chrysalis. It was hard work, surely, but he'd done it - and then he had to find the strength to lift his head, and then find his way to his hooves, which alone was hard work. But he hadn't been alone. Three others were around him, encouraging him as they spoke among themselves. One young Gembound in particular had tried to invite him to play, but Caravaggio had found difficulty in standing up then, though he'd wanted so badly to run with her. Ever since then, the cow had been learning how to walk and talk and generally function. He demanded their help at first, going so far as to follow the lemur around until he was confident enough in his ability to walk. The young caribou had helped him earn his balance too with her playful nature, though he less appreciated the resulting mud and filth that seemed to collect on his hooves from playing in Eridanus.

That was when he decided that he would seek out somewhere... cleaner. Cayenne told him about some of the different areas in the caves, most notably the ones made mostly out of rock, and then there were rooms filled with glistening, gleaming, beautiful crystals, and almost immediately the young cow found himself enthralled. Hopefully he wouldn't get lost. And, even more hopefully was that these places would have a source of water that was cleaner than what was in Eridanus. In a place filled with mud and dirt, the water too was dirty and a little gross - what he wouldn't give for a pool of water that wasn't potentially contaminated by the festering plague horse that had greeted him during his hatching. Oh, that thing had left him with nightmares, and he feared now the entire jungle room was crawling with disease.

There was a gentle clop noise with each step the cow made; after leaving Eridanus, he was delighted to already find that this tunnel was far cleaner. The ground was smooth and though it was dusty, dust was easier to clean than mud. His tail swished behind his gangly legs, wide, amethyst eyes traveling along the rocks as he walked. His head bobbed with each step, still getting used to the weight of his hefty skull, and soon he found that the patterns in the wall would begin to change. They dimpled in and pushed out, and lichens had grown on the rock in what looked like deliberate structures. Distracted briefly from his quest, the cow stopped and tilted his head, staring up at the carvings with some curiosity.

Things weren't exactly going his way. He'd had his face burned by a bear and now his Beast was missing... It was all terrible. He needed something, someone, to help in his cause. His army wouldn't build itself. He needed loyal participants, followers that understood why the carnivorous menace must be eliminated. So far he'd come up blank but he was ever hopeful.. Perhaps that was why he ended going to the tunnel neighboring his territory. Maybe it was luck or maybe it was fate leading him.

He heard the telltale clop of hooves on the earth before he saw the creature. The beautiful herbivore with a body like a tank and small horns made for goring. This perfect creature... It was meant to be. Hasira stopped walking, watching the calf as it looked up at the carvings on the wall. For a moment the stag simply stared, contemplating what he should say or do. No doubt there would be questions or perhaps even skepticism with his new facial marks but he almost hoped there would be. He could always spin that story to make himself seem like a saint. He almost was glad the bear had given him visual proof of the carnivores' violence.

After a few moments passed the stag spoke, "Greetings, young one, my name is Lord Hasira, Protector of the Herbivores. Might I be so bold as to ask your own calling?" Lord... He loved the sound of that. He was indeed a lord though because only one of that status would take on the undertaking of cleansing the caves and defending the weak.

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His eyes rolled over each detail, drinking it in, taking note of each sweep of the lichens and each shape they made. They looked like figures of some kind, but they were hardly familiar to him. The cow spent a good few long seconds looking it over, trying to make sense of the depictions in the carving before the feeling of being watched had slowly crawled over his back. The gangly youth slowly turned his head, then he nearly jumped out of his skin when he caught sight of the massive buck staring him down. His violet eyes widened in alarm and his ears twisted back against his skull, long tail lashing. This guy looked a lot like Amalthea, but he was... bigger... and scarier... and he didn't like the look of those big rackish things on his head. More importantly, his skin was gnarled as though it had been burnt and scarred, reminding him of the smelly plague horse.

Another few seconds had elapsed before the stag finally spoke. Caravaggio's expression slowly metamorphosed from alarm to suspicion, habitually lowering his head and revealing the tough nubbins that sprouted above his ears. There was no chance in hell the cow would actually fight, but he'd come to learn that these prized weapons of his were great for intimidation tactics. "Herbivore?" The cow asked bluntly, then idly raised his head again to look at the stag, forgetting his attempt to intimidate him. "What's a herbivore? And whats a Lord?" He added obnoxiously, tilting his head and flaring his nostrils with skepticism at the stag and, for now, forgetting to mention his own name. He wanted answers first!

Though Caravaggio had abandoned his intimidation attempt, he very quickly realized that even if he had wanted to intimidate the stag, it would be for naught - the beast raised his great head and showed off the glorious rack of antlers atop his head. They caught the light, towering above him, and Caravaggio felt his spine shudder at the sight. How easily one of those antlers could pierce the skin, and the thought of sustaining an injury because of them made his stomach turn. Thankfully, the stag distracted him with his words, explaining that a herbivore was what they were. Because they ate plants. Meanwhile, carnivores didn't eat plants. Instead carnivores were bad because they ate meat, because they killed other creatures and caused chaos. Caravaggio furrowed his brow, intrigued. A nobler race?

He went on to explain what a Lord was and the calf nodded eagerly, listening to how he controlled a region, Orion. Where was Orion? Was it a jungle? Did it have trees and mud like Eridanus? If it did, then Caravaggio wanted nothing to do with it - but the stag sounded pretty proud, so the cow twitched his ears curiously. "If I join you, would I be a Lord too?" He asked in awe. Then again... the stag had made mention of defending their brethren and gaining honor and pride, and then giving obedience and respect - oh, that last part especially didn't sound too good. Caravaggio didn't really care about honor and pride. Okay, well, he cared a lot about pride. Maybe too much. He also didn't care much about brethren because as far as he was concerned, he didn't have brethren. But maybe.

After all, he WAS a herbivore... maybe this was where he belonged.

His show worked. The young calf seemed to calm down with his show of strength and he seemed to listen as the Lord explained the things to him. He could see that the calf was interested and it pleased him. This strong bull would be of nothing but help to his cause. Certainly the carnivores couldn't stand up to his impressive bulk.

At his question the Lord smiled but shook his head. "Sadly there is only one Lord but if you play our cards right and do your duty and give the respect as I mentioned you will have power. You could be a Captain or a Lordsguard." And why couldn't he be? Ultimately Hasira had all of the power but he wasn't above gifting those that proved their loyalty. "But you cannot put a price on family which is what you would be a part of if you joined with me." Sugarcoated lies was what he was feeding the gem. Hopefully the calf would eat them up.

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Then he had the bull. The stag lead him away, back to his home where he could begin his task of brainwashing him and bringing him onto his side. Certainly this one would bend to his will just as the others had, he seemed easy enough to fool so long as he was kept happy.

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