After meeting Mr. Sir. Hasira, Caravaggio was a little wary of going... Well, anywhere. He hated Eridanus and the mud and wetness that was everywhere. The overhanging plants always hid the dirty little bits, and in his brief experience he unfortunately had fallen into more than his fair share of mud puddles. Then he left Eridanus and made his way through the tunnels. One tunnel. The one with the mysterious carvings. He was briefly intrigued, pretending to find them considerably more interesting than they really were if only to avoid the stag at first. Then he told him about Herbivores and Lords and how Caravaggio was above all the other Gembounds that ate meat, even though Caravaggio actually didn't care about what other Gembounds ate. Alright, maybe he did a little. Meat eaters were messy. But that was the extent of his caring. After that, Hasira promised great things to him, and Caravaggio would have been all for this PETA-esque league of his.
But there were two problems.
One: Caravaggio quickly realized that he didn't care about Hasira's problems or anybody else's. If the carnivores left him alone, he'd leave them alone.
And two: Imposing the superiority of herbivores heavily implied that there would be fighting, and the thought of fighting made cowardly little Caravaggio positively quake in his lil cow booties. It filled him with dread. Fighting meant pain, getting dirty, and those nasty sores on the plague horse. In short, it made him literally want to vomit - but he wouldn't, because that was also gross, if not maximum gross.
So when he got a chance, Caravaggio slipped away back down the familiar tunnel. He gazed down in Eridanus' direction, and then promptly turned the other way. Only in his indecision, he had gone through to Polaris instead. Now he was in the middle of the great Core room, where blue crystals broke through the ground and one great big one rose among the rest. Somewhere nearby, someone was running around and yapping incessantly. The cow frowned and took a few tentative steps, turning back to the spire, curiosity getting the better of him--
And then he saw the youth. Pristine, nubile pinky-white. From a distance, she looked remarkably clean. His heart skipped a beat.
All at once, the weird dog-bird thing had taken notice of him and gone running over. Caravaggio was momentarily stunned. He watched the pale blue light play off her svelte porcelain form. She was like pastel or pearl brought to life, and the way she moved - like she was captured light. The cow stared, and then she bounded up to him with a loud and obnoxious greeting. In the same fashion that her squawking voice had shattered the silence, the mild annoyance of her shrill voice had cut through his mystification, wrenching him from his momentarily anesthia in her pristine appearance. The cow blinked dumbly at her as she launched a flurry of questions at him, then sniffed his legs.
Out of instinct he jumped back, stamping his hooves on the ground.
"H-Hey! Watch it!" Caravaggio snorted, lashing the cord-like tail at his haunches. She presented a whole array of names belonging to Gembounds he didn't know and then before he could try and preserve his dignity, she started throwing out suggestions as to what his name was. Black, Fisher, and her name - she said it was White, right? Obviously these creatures were so simple minded that they couldn't think of anything nicer for a name beyond the first thing they saw. He was offended that she'd assume the same of him.
"Wha- no! Those are stupid names!" He stammered, aghast at her suggestions.
Admittedly, he had yet to grow into his charm.
The cow uttered a loud snort and stamped his hooves down again, louder this time, hoping to get her to slow down and listen.
"My name!" He declared, then shrunk with boyish awkwardness, glancing aside, then back to her.
"Is Caravaggio!" The cow rolled his r's and spoke the name with a touch of refined elegance, nodding his head. Then he held his big heavy skull up and stared down his fat nose at her, cocking a brow with a look of indifference.
"And why would I wanna be friends with you?" He added obnoxiously, looking her up and down.
Besides the fact you're really pretty. No! Wait!
@White
And just as he had watched her wilt and curl into herself like a dying flower, he observed her transform a second time. As his words, still boyish and clumsy and uncertain, had left his lips she reacted. It was slow, and he could see their depth settle into her mind, the final offer for her to be his friend acting catalyst to the eventual raise of her head. There, those soft pink eyes were on him again. Her crying had made her skin turn even redder, a puffy, sad, pink aesthetic that had somehow managed to find a place in his weird and selfish heart. In all honesty, he was dumb founded. He didn't think it was possible that there could be somebody out there to strike such a chord in him, but this world was forged of opposites: it was the disgusting plague horse that disturbed him to life and set him on his path, and it would be the perfect pearly canine that would suspend him.
"Well, yea-" But she cut him off before he could confirm his decision. Any one else would have made him groan and roll his eyes, but Caravaggio held his tongue and watched her glow with life again. She excitedly declared that they would be... the best at friendship... And his reservations drained away. He loved being the best at things. Especially if he'd be the best with her, the herald of his redemption. "Okay. But, um. Can you teach me how? I'm still... learning." The cow blinked down at her. A rare moment of humility, perhaps the only one he would know - it came easier than he'd expected, but maybe that was because she had already become his expected source of forgiveness and understanding. A vital anchor. Quickly cast to the unknown, he was still but a child searching for a hand to hold.
When she suggested they go down to the river, he swallowed a chill of uncertainty. "What's at the river?" He asked, turning and following her. Amethyst eyes searched beyond her, for the river, for the mystery of this friendship. The answer would be there.