ORIGIN

The black horse listened, his ears pricked, to the sound of tapping.

Tap. Clink. Tap. Clink.

The tapping was soft, almost gentle; the clink wasn't all that loud, but it was sharper, almost melodic. With a quiet huff, he began to stalk quietly forward, intent on finding the source of the sound.

He himself had never been to Canis; the dark tunnel had beckoned him, reminding him of his birth. It was only when he'd nearly stumbled over the remains of his old chrysalis that he realized the chilling, empty tunnel was where he'd been born--and he'd never been on the other side of it. He'd wandered through the dark cave, picking his way delicately among the bones, skeletal form not out of place in what he felt was a tomb.

Is this why I came from the tunnel? Did I come from death, into the places of Life? Will I come back this way? Perhaps I am, now.

It was then that the tap, clink, tap clink had jarred him from his thoughts--and he'd slowly turned toward it, making his way over stone ridges and beneath jagged stalagmites. His own hoofbeats--quiet though they were--didn't sound dissimilar. Clop, clop, clop, hollowly echoing over the cave floor.

From ahead came a snap--something cracking, broken. Splintered?

He crested another little ridge, pale eyes glowing dully in the darkness, and saw a small, furry black creature peering up and around. His long, thin head tilted to one side, and for a moment, he simply observed.

Now the thing was gazing all around, wide-eyed with wonder, and Khloros wondered if it were a newcomer here, as well. In a voice hollow and quiet, almost a hoarse whisper, he spoke.

"Hello. What are you?"

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BRING OUT YOUR DEAD

Khloros watched as the young fox kit--though he didn't know that's what it was--covered its snout with two paws. It seemed repulsed--or perhaps it was merely startled, afraid, at his sudden approach?

The young stallion made his way a few clopping paces forward to inspect the offered paw, listening to the bright, enthusiastic words of the kit.

Gembound? What is that? He wasn't sure he'd heard the word, before. Perhaps it was to do with small things, fuzzy things, black ones? Like Cayenne had been? Now that he thought about it, the thing more resembled a young Louie, though solid black and much more energetic. Or maybe "gembound" didn't mean a species, at all; maybe it was related to the clinking stone embedded in the kit's paw?

Khloros was quite blissfully unaware of his own stone, lodged as it was between two ribs and generally nestled in a mess of diseased flesh. But now that he thought about it, he'd seen them before: Booker's eyes were a stone, and Nemesis's... well, face. Her whole face, pretty much. Was that what linked them?

Was that what set him apart? Was that why Rafael had said they were better...?

Khloros thought, briefly, but he couldn't remember if the strange winged stag had had a jewel. With a soft snort, nostrils flared, he pushed the thought aside.

Todd. His name was Todd.

"I don't know. I am Khloros," he answered softly, peering over the small one. "What are you doing here? Do you live here?"

He spoke haltingly, unsure if the youngster was lost. It didn't seem lost, and nothing in the cave seemed outright dangerous, but still, it somehow felt... not right, for one so young to be alone in Canis.

His vision briefly blurred, as he considered, the bacteria that lived within him reaching out, through his magic, to allow him to see the gembound. At least he could be sure it was not sick? But nothing came, not right away at least, so Khloros relinquished his grip on the magic, letting the bacteria in his own body slide back into their rest. He used his actual eyes, instead: it didn't look sick, not that he could see.

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BRING OUT YOUR DEAD

Khloros peered at the fox, then lifted his narrow head to swing it to and fro, peering around Canis.

So the fox--Todd--wanted to explore this place? The plague horse had little better to do. He could tag along for a bit, he supposed.

The black horse turned his head back toward the fox, flaring his nostrils wide as he exhaled a gentle snort.

"I will follow you, for awhile. What is it you want to see? What is it you've found so far? I have never been here."

He wasn't sure what there was to see bar bones and rock, but then, there were plenty of distant dark corners that might hide wondrous secrets.

For a moment, at Todd's enthusiasm, Khloros felt something long dormant stir within him: the brief spark of curiosity, of mischief and excitement.

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BRING OUT YOUR DEAD

"Speech" @Khloros

The stranger looked around, and Todd followed his gaze, all around the cave, so much excitement in his little face and twitching nose. He wondered if the stallion might know something, maybe some huge hidden secret, maybe something exciting. His heart began to pound and he felt his fur fluffing out in every direction, his paws moving involuntarily as he gave a little dance with his forepaws.

As he looked about, one could clearly see the innocence of the little fox as his eyes gazed upon the remains of those long lost without remorse or sorrow- only wonder and excitement. His earlier question was soon answered as Khloros spoke. He'd never been here before? Oh well. "That just means, alla' secrets we find will never been found before!" he sang optimistically, hopping up and down. "Mhm... Not foun' that much. Just... These... uhm... I think they're funny rocks."

For the first time, Todd was a little more intent as he poked at that same skull he'd been looking at before. Then he looked back up at Khloros, and all that same curiosity returned. "Are they rocks?" he asked loudly, looking around. Not quite waiting for an answer, he bounded off and began climbing on a small pile of bones situated nearby.

Rocks?

The little fox thought they were rocks.

Khloros knew better. He wasn't worldly, by any means--but the horse knew bones, when he saw them. Quiet, he moved closer to the fox--but Todd was already scurrying off to the next pile. With a soft snort, he placed one hoof on the skull the fox had touched, turning his long, bony head to watch the vulpine explore.

"Rocks...? No. Do you feel the hard places in your body? Your head is hard. That's what is inside. Bones. This was someone's head, once."

Khloros said all of this slowly, gently, then turned his hollow gaze to the skull, looking down at it absently. He wondered who it had been; what they had seen, done. And perhaps, most of all--

"I wonder how they died...?"

His eyes trailed away from the skull, to all the other bones that Todd was scattering about.

"I wonder how they all died?"

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BRING OUT YOUR DEAD

"Speech" @Khloros

For a moment, Todd turned back from where he climbed. He'd reached the top of the small pile and several bones skittered down and hit the ground. It was a little wobblier than he'd expected, and he kept glancing down at his paws as the bones shifted slightly. Looking back up at Khloros though, Todd furrowed his brow in consideration and focused hard on the skull upon which the horse had placed his hoof.

"Oh, that's funny." Todd mumbled, not sure quite what to say. He didn't think the skull bore any resemblance to himself. It was a little ugly to be quite frank. But still... Todd raised his soft paw and placed it on his forehead. It was hard, just like Khloros had said. "Are they all heads?" He looked down at one bone, which was most likely a leg bone many times the length of his own little limbs, and imagined it as a long, long nose.

Khloros wondered something aloud. Something that Todd didn't understand very well. A strange word, and with a slightly ominous tone to boot. He thought hard and was about to question it, but came up with another and then forgot.

"And... why not someone's head anymore?" He had a sudden realization, and began to wag his tail excitedly. "Oh! do they wanna come with us?"

He scrambled and slid his way down the bone pile again and made his way over to the skull, looking at it intently. "Do you? Do you wanna come?"

Unsurprisingly, there was no response.

Khloros clicked quietly closer on his own hooves, lowering his long head to sniff over some bones. He spoke absently, as he did, swishing his tail ever-so-slightly.

"They are dead. They aren't alive anymore. They can't hear you, or see, or think. Do you eat? Do you eat rats and mice, like the others do? When you kill them, there's bones inside, and they don't live anymore."

Khloros didn't say this in a creepy tone, and he wasn't trying to manipulate, to induce guilt or anything so sinister. He was simply explaining death, as he saw it, to the young and obviously ignorant fox kit.

He began to slowly amble down a stone pathway, sniffing at things: this fern, that stalagmite--though he didn't go too far from Todd.

At length he lifted his head, peering blankly back, rasping at the fox again.

"Want to go this way? It goes down into the dark. I wonder what's down there."

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BRING OUT YOUR DEAD