ORIGIN

Dragon was in fact quite close by, but he wasn't aware of Willow's presence. And she likely wasn't aware of his. He'd been lying in the same place for hours, wholly motionless. Only the very top ridge of his eyes and nostrils poked from the Heart's water, and even then they were so slick with wet that they seemed black. He looked like one of the many pieces of dead wood, a branch, floating.

His mind was empty; his breathing almost nonexistent. His heart beat once per minute. It was as if there was nothing there: empty space.

It was how he hunted--and Dragon was almost always hunting. It helped that he could hunt and rest at the same time.

A herd of cave deer, at length--small, only three of them--made their way quietly down to the water's edge. They were alert, hooves squelching only quietly in the mud. Dragon was never sure why they came down to the Heart, when they could have drank from the channels of black water just as easily; he supposed it didn't matter. They didn't expect to be ambushed either way, and maybe the water was cleaner here, if only a little.

He waited as they drew close, eyes taking in every detail. Their slender legs, their nearly furless skin, the gentle throb of violet phosphorescence over their bodies, running in stripes and spots. And he waited, still patient. The first was slightly too far. The second was just close enough, but it was waiting, waiting for the first to drink.

There: the first drank, and the second lowered a long and slender neck. With a powerful thrust of his tail, Dragon erupted from the Heart of Cetus, jaws agape, aiming to slam them shut around the small deer's neck. His launch was violent, a sudden roar of sound in the silence, the spray of black water surging up and around all three deer. But the first had seen that slight twitch of his tail and bolted. The cave deer weren't large, but they were agile, and in a fraction of a second they'd all three leaped back and away, Dragon's jaws snapping shut on thin air with a loud clack.

An instant later he'd collapsed back, his weight falling back on his hind legs--on the injured one, leaving him toppling slightly to one side with a hiss of pain as he splashed back into the swamp water.

He was unaware that someone still watched, still lurked as silent as he had been, as he slipped back into the blackness. He was patient; he could wait for another prey creature, wait while he nursed the pain in his leg.

Without a word, Dragon sank back into the black, waiting.

Dragon lifted his head back from the surface as he heard the soft, melodic voice call his name. Willow was there, ghostlike, suddenly appearing where there had been only empty blackness just a moment before.

How does she do that...?

The alligator briefly thought over her question. "No," he answered, voice a quiet bass rumble. "But perhaps you have time to speak?"

As he watched the owl, a few things ran through his mind. He had questions--things he'd like to discuss, perhaps put to rest. And the others--... He loved them like family, but Willow had something about her, a sort of detached, old-soul self-contained confidence that seemed to say she needed nothing and no one. That she already knew all that needed knowing. Hell, she was offering him, a thousand-pound alligator who could spew fire, help.

Somehow, he felt that the thoughts that had been running, at times, through his mind, might best be discussed with the owl, rather than the others. The rest were intelligent, each resourceful or useful in their own way, but he felt that they might be... disturbed, by the topic at hand.

Perhaps Willow would not.

Dragon stared at Willow for a time, trying to organize his thoughts into a logical, patterned format. For the most part, he succeeded: so that when he spoke, it sounded cold, detached. He kept his voice low, for the first time that he could remember; he didn't want others to hear. Not this.

"I have learned much. Death is a powerful tool, Willow. It binds the strong together, it strengthens them further. It exposes the weak. But other tools can be equally as useful. There are many things I wish to do."

He was silent, for a moment, submerging his snout to blow thoughtful bubbles in the water, before continuing.

"The Gembound of this cave, all together, barely survived Raheerah. We must make our own strength. They bicker amongst themselves, and fritter away their time on nothing. We must strengthen them. For to strengthen the caves, is to strengthen ourselves, yes?"

Again he paused, eyeing the owl. Thus far, perhaps, nothing that he said was that far out of the ordinary; in fact, they'd discussed similar topics before.

"I intend to call the other leaders together, when I can. There are groups, and I would speak to them. Learn of them. I wish you to learn of them. I wish the other Scouts, to learn of them: you shall be my Eyes of Rot. But you, Willow--I wish you to be the Mouth of Rot. I wish you to sow discord."

He paused a moment, letting his words sink in, arranging in his mind what he wished to say next. He was factual, clear, no sign of emotion tainting his words.

"If we find that one of a group values a certain stone, then we steal it, and plant it on another. If we find that a group values a tree, we desecrate the tree, and blame it on another. We see who stands together, against such frivolous insults. We see who is willing to kill over nothing. Who is willing to forgive, and grow stronger as a whole. In this way, we will weed out the weak, and we will find those who can stand against dragons."

The alligator lifted his head again, nostrils flaring, a faint curl of smoke rising from them.

"I wished to speak with you about this--and only you. You have a sense of other about you. You will understand, I think, where others do not. What do you think of this?"

"We must first, not tell others. Second, we must gather the information, before we act. And third, we must be absolutely certain that we are not caught. That is why I am trusting you with this."

The alligator hardly knew Willow, but she was perfect for this task. He knew it with the same surety that he knew fire was hot, and that the swamp was wet and black.

Dragon blew a few bubbles beneath the swamp's surface once more, in thought.

"But you are right. I must think of contingency plans. Do you have suggestions?"

He wondered: what could they do, were they caught? They'd have to think of something.

Dragon eyed Willow, blowing bubbles and thinking.

"There are other ways to sow discord. And other ways to test. Words are a powerful weapon. Let me think on it. Until then, will you bring the others to me--Tal'at, and Eve? I will be here. Waiting."

He would ask them two favors: first, to find the leaders of the other groups... and then, to watch those groups, while the leaders were gone. To learn what they could.

He would have to phrase it carefully--delicately. It wasn't that he distrusted them; on the contrary, he knew that they might not like the idea of spying, of manipulating. Tal'at in particular seemed of pure heart. No, he had to protect them from the truth of it. This was what was best for them--for them all. But they couldn't know what they were doing.

Not yet, at least.