ORIGIN

"Oh," the pup said moments before being lifted. She didn't particularly enjoy the experience, but she realised they might get to the Spire much faster if Black was doing all the walking.

She took the time to consider while she hung from the dog's maw, about what he meant by 'died.' It wasn't a word that she knew - not that she knew too many to begin with. She only knew the muffled words she had heard outside of her chrysalis.

Her head craned a little to look at her father. She could ask what it was, but she decided not to. She was fairly sure she could ask him anything ever, after all, but hopefully this 'died' thing wasn't too important. She instead focused on what was clearly top priority.

"What's a dragon?" she asked as she found herself staring right up at the base of the Spire. She didn't really dare actually touch it. In fact, after Black put her down, she stumbled off behind him, just in case it came alive somehow.

Black took a deep breath, thinking, then slowly exhaled. For once it didn't occur to him that he might frighten White. Instead, he focused on giving her the truest possible description of Raheerah that he possibly could.

"The Dragon is named Raheerah. We heard his name. He is vast. His wings are as wide as a cave. His flesh is armored with hard black scales, and orange fire glows through his skin. His jaws are long, and broad, and full of sharp teeth. He breathes flame. He has short, powerful legs, and very long talons, and his feet are larger than you or I. His tail is very long, and there are spines along his back. He has no fur, and no feathers." He paused, thinking. What could he compare Raheerah to? The dragon was unlike anything White had ever seen in her brief life. He'd have compared it to a lizard with bat wings, but he doubted she'd ever seen either of those things.

For now, he gave up on that; he'd given her as good a description as he could. He continued with a warning.

"He is said to eat Gembound like y ou or I. When we fought--all the others, and I--he would slam us with his tail, stomp us with his claws, snap lives away in his teeth, or incinerate with flame. He is best avoided," Black added, matter-of-factly and probably entirely unecessarily. "Remember: as powerful as he is, he was still chased away by the thing-that-fled. I must tell you of her. I must tell you of Nemean."

It sounded as if he were about to launch into a story--another description, a speech. Instead, he made a simple statement, his voice low with a tone of warning.

"Do not trust the little thing with bug wings that buzzes. The thing of light and cruel laughter. She is dangerous, and not what she seems."

As far as warnings went, and as far as Black tended to wax poetic about things, it was a short enough statement. Still, he seemed oblivious that any of his statements might worry White. Perhaps he was confident in her, well, confidence; either way he only looked back at her briefly, seemingly totally at ease as he looked back up at the Spire a moment later.

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White had been alive for aproximately twelve minutes now.

And already this Raheerah thing was the worst thing she had ever heard of - Nemean didn't sound much better, either. The hybrid shifted on the spot, settling down next to Black with a tiny little frown. "Why does he eat us?" she asked quietly, as if they were being eaten alive as she spoke.

It sounded all horrible and she didn't really like it - she wanted to hear nice stuff like-.... well, White didn't know about any nice stuff yet - which honestly is leading up to a pretty horrible existence.

Regardless, she waited for her father's answer.

Black thought about this question for awhile. "Because he is hungry, perhaps." For a moment he was silent, and then spoke again. "He was chaotic and I do not know his motives. I do not know if any do. He had laid claim here and burned the rock, but I do not know why."

He had little else to offer on the subject--certainly not comfort, for there was none to give. Raheerah might return at any time, and if he did, they had very little recourse but to flee, as fast as they could.

There were terrible things in their world, and Black was not about to begin lying about them. White could handle it, in any case, he thought; she was strong. Bright.

It barely occurred to him that she was but a child, and that children ought to be protected, at least a little--comforted. He himself had never had, needed or wanted that--and in this way, at least, Black was a terrible parent.

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"Oh," she said quietly, shifting somewhat.

She looked around, and then back up at the spire. She didn't really want to get any closer, and her legs hurt now. She shifted a little before she lay down on her belly, eyes half-closing as they continued to gaze up at the glowing blue rock.

What did it do? Why is it so important? Why is it such a big deal?

Whatever it was, it was pretty. She glanced back at Black, briefly, before she shut her eyes fully.

Black watched her for a long moment, this Child-of-Polaris, basking in the pale light of the Spire. She'd arrowed to it, and the typical "moth to a flame" couldn't work because the Dog had never seen either.

But arrow to it she had.

It was as if she were meant to be here. Black recalled the moth-beast that had fallen from the ceiling, in the fight with Raheerah. Perhaps it was the Spire's guardian. Perhaps it was not Black who had caused White to come into being, but the moth? Perhaps she was the Spire's new avatar, its protector...?

Still, she was young. It would not do to confuse her with such things, nor even to interrupt her first rest. He edged closer and laid his own large head on his massive paws, silently resting but alert to danger, taking up his first night's watch as protector of the purity that he called, simply, "White."

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