ORIGIN - What's In The Box!?

The burrow was rather quiet, but still filled with the anxiety from Vicktor's attack. It had happened a week ago now. Booker still pent up with fear, huddled to the back of the burrow. Safe. Diot had adjusted just fine, more so worried for his own father than anything else. He had been tending to the wound on the numbat's leg. Applying a mixture of herbs and helpful sap to try and save as much as he could. But there was no undoing the damage that had been done. He could only keep it healthy and clean, and damn if Diot didn't do that.

But even with tending to his father he was rather glum. He hated seeing the numbat like this. It reminded him of when the bond broke with Bara...but this wasn't as bad. No this was a whole other animal, but still the classification. Anxiety, fear and hiding. But like always the tamarin did what he could do, and began to unravel a master plan! One that would certainly help his father feel better! Aside from the herbs anyway!

Since Booker had secluded himself to the far reaches of the burrow in safety, he never really entered the 'living room'. Which allowed Diot to do as he must, everything had to be perfect! Now was especially the time! He had just brought his father some succulent bugs, so it would awhile before he peered around the corner. Wouldn't want to spoil the surprise after all!

Reaching out he coaxed the plant life to flourish, decorating the walls and doorways with their bioluminescence. Precious and yet alien plants began twirling into wonders of nature, all working together to form the center piece that lay in the center of the room. A small little 'tree' glowing and releasing a calming hum throughout. The top of it barely touching the roof of the burrow. It was beautiful!

"Speech"

All the while nature kept crawling through the room Diot focused on crafting the finest gift! Touching down on the soft soil he lifted his palm, allowing strands of thick roots follow his lead. Twirling and weaving together into a fine cylindrical item, occasionally placing a few bioluminescent plants between their weaves. This would be perfect! A nice strong build! Solid and well woven! It even was decorated with some of his very own alien plants! A soft glowing managing to shine from the inner core of the staff. Would be the perfect tool for Booker to use!

Now all he needed...was a box...yes a box, one well crafted and...large...wouldn't want Booker to be able to guess the item from just staring at the wrapper after all!

"Speech"

Reaching out again Diot hoped nature would be able to lend him a hand, or well two. He wanted to show his father the surprise right away! So weaving and making a plant box by hand would take longer than what he would like. But as always nature was kind and loving and he thanked the plants that grew up from the soil. Weaving together into a organic cube shape.

As it formed Diot applied some general sap to its surface and between the weaves, providing and strong and lasting hold even if it where to be thrown across the room in surprise. As it worked on finishing the bottom portion of the box he watched the lid sprout up beside him. Quickly standing to his feet, lifting the box and rolling it into the snow outside. Freezing and setting the sap, it would work like super glue now! And it was so beautiful! He repeated this process with the lid, only bringing them both in when the sap had been shocked cold. Soon he would be ready. Making himself a small satchel while he was at it, though he would let nature have some artistic freedom with it. Small vines tightly wrapping together weaving an air tight form; it would be done in no time. But while that was working he would only focus on the final steps of the box first.

Putting down the box he softly placed the staff inside, along with a few of Booker's favorite bugs for good measure. Placing the lid on top it fit snugly, now was the last part. The bow. Small vines wrapped the box softly, finally weaving and tying themselves into a snug little bow up top. He gently tapped the soil, whispering a few words of thank you to the life around him as he inspected both the box and his fancy satchel.

Checking around the burrow he made sure everything had been finished, the decorations; which Diot would probably make grow throughout the rest of the burrow in all honesty. The gift was done, the fancy tree he felt would help soother his father, especially with that calming alien hum. Something of Diot's own design. Walking down the hall he only stopped to walk back and coax a small flower bud on the top of the bow, he would let it blossom when Booker would go to remove it. Ah the perfect set up! Now he was done!

Diot made his way down the halls of the burrow, peering into the back room and setting his eyes on the numbat. A calm and stoic look upon his face as normal. Smiling with excitement as he spoke up. "Dad, I have something really important to show you..."

Diot wasn't going to have Booker close his eye. Especially not since it would be more fun to lead him down the newly lit hallway. He couldn't help sprout up his alien plants. He was sure Booker would see the new home additions and think this was the important issue. But a trip down the soft blue glowing hall would lead him into an entirely different world. Walking into the room Diot offered his father a hand, ready to help lead and steady his father's balance down the hall.

"Speech"

@Booker

He'd hidden himself away, deep within the burrow, as soon as the clash with Vicktor had ended. Leaving the jaguar like that made him feel a tiny, almost microscopic pang of guilt, but the memory of burning his mark into the cat's flesh sent a thrill through his gut. And Booker... well, Booker really had no idea what to do with that. Barnett regarded the whole thing as another proof of just how terrible and destructive predators were, but they both stayed sequestered in one of the many rooms in their hovel.

Their leg... it was useless, now. He could barely move the damn thing an inch, and every time he did it felt like the flames of Polaris were eating away at his muscles. Grimacing as he tried to straighten it from its strange, curled position, tapping at the edges of the wound with a wince, Booker focused on the comforting sounds of his son, padding about the main living room, the sounds echoing down the hallways. The only other sounds were his own pained breathing, and the scuttling of one of the insects Diot had dropped off, still alive and flicking its wings like it intended to fly away.

A surge of something hot and angry ripped through him, and the numbat snatched the thing, crunching its head off between his teeth and swallowing the rest in vindictive spite.

The rest of the meal was devoured more sedately, but neither of them focused on it, instead tuning their damaged hearing to the tamarin in the main hub. Light was beginning to seep into the room where he'd been bunking, and Barnett felt a proud smile twitch at his lips - his son was impressive with his magic, and the glow screamed some sort of bioluminescence. The light was accompanied by a hum, one that made him relax back on his bed of leaves and fungus, destroyed leg propped up on a deathcap, drifting in and out of sleep.

The sound of coming footsteps made him blink blearily awake, eye focusing on Diot's approaching form with a pleased twinkle. "Important, eh? We better get a move on, then," he murmured, playing along, slowly - so frustratingly slowly - rising from his resting place, reaching out to balance himself on the tamarin's shoulder, almost falling more than he cared to recount. Finally, he was up and relatively steady, making his way through the corridor and finally out into the living room.

It was... incredible. Almost alien in its beauty. A strange, cheerily glowing tree sat in the middle of the burrow's hub, a flora-crafted box in front of it. Booker stumbled walking towards it, eye widening in disbelief and darting to focus on Diot. "Did you... make all a' this? For me?" The amazement was clear in his tremoring voice, and the numbat turned back to the display without waiting for a reply, slowly staggering to the gift before slumping to the ground in front of it.

Being given a gift was still strange and new, even after Eve had offered up her glowing pebble. Barnett hesitated to touch the box, but when he did, the bud atop it bloomed into a vibrant flower, and Booker gasped, grinning toothily, eye suspiciously misty. Paws trembling, he slowly removed the top - and felt his breath seize in his chest. Inside, nestled safely in its bedding, lay a softly glowing cane, forged from twisting roots and dotted with some of Diot's own plants. Squeaking involuntarily, Booker brushed away salty tears with a blush of embarrassment. "This is... son, this is beautiful."

The words were an awed, hushed whisper, and the scribe slowly moved to pick the cane up, testing its weight, grinning so hard he felt the wrinkles at the corner of his good eye deepen, whiskers twitching wildly.

@Diot

It didn't matter how slow Booker now was; he was perfect to Diot. Still alive, that is what mattered most in the end. Still breathing, still surviving; and still happily eating. Slowly he helped his father down the halls, all too excited to see how the numbat would react. He wanted to best for Booker, to live; to be happy. Happiness and health were the most important of things, especially since Booker had so little of both in his life.

Upon approaching the main room, Diot slowly watched the wonder and disbelief grow on his father's face. Diot proudly and happily beside him taking in the final look of the main hub of the burrow. "Did you... make all a' this? For me?" Amazement clear in his voice, Diot could only nod enthusiastically. Waiting and watching his father stagger to the box. The flower blooming at just the right time! Oh it was perfect! Now for him to see what was in the box! That was the true moment of truth.

Diot was rather nervous, why he wasn't sure? He wanted this to go along perfectly; his father deserved a life if not jut a moment of wonder and happiness. With misty eyes the tamarin watched as Booker opened the box, slowly scooting around Booker's side to get a good view of the event. The involuntary squeaking gave Diot the expected result of surprise. "This is... son, this is beautiful."

"I'm so happy you like it! Try it out, lets see how it works with you!"

While Booker was already testing the weight and general shape of the cane, it was another thing to put it to use. If all went well this would aid the dependence on his lame back leg. Hopefully improving the life and travel of his father.

"Speech"

@Booker

Cradling the cane in malformed hands, Booker blinked back tears, running the pads of dry, scarred fingers along its grooves. Diot's request brought him out of the stunned daze, and he shot his son a proud grin, refocusing on the support to slowly move it to the ground. He hesitated, trembling - he'd already fallen to the floor in his recovery, twisted limb wrenching beneath him, and the numbat winced at the possibility of a new injury to add to his collection.

The scribe took a deep breath in, steadied his breathing - and pushed up, the cane digging into the ground. Slowly but surely he began to rise, lower back popping as it began to stretch, relaxing from its forced compression. A relieved sigh whistled through Booker's nose, and he smiled, soft and grateful, eye slipping closed as he took his first upright step in what felt like years.

Another, and his injured leg flared with crippling pain - but he stayed up right, knuckles white on the top of the support. A bark of a laugh escaped his throat, and the numbat turned to peer at Diot, only wasting a moment before finally, finally being able to walk to his son, gathering the tamarin in his arms with an elated chirrup. "It's perfect! I... Diot, I can't tell ya how important this is," the man murmured into red-brown fur. "Can't begin ta describe..." Another huff of amazement, and he gave up on words, hugging his son tightly in their stead.

@Diot

His father was cradling the cane in his hands, focusing on the details of the tenderly crafted filled cane. Though Diot's word of eagerness to see it put to use broke his father of the daze he was in. Diot was holding his breath, recalling the moments when his father had fallen during his recovery; the possibility of having even more injuries were still heavily imminent. Cane digging into the ground he began to rise, audible sounds of his back popping reaching Diot's ears. That was good! Less stress for his back!

A step and he watched his father struggle, white knuckles atop the support. But he did not rush to his aid, he was doing excellent. Nerves rising up within the young tamarin, should anything go wrong his plants would be a fair cushion; possibly even grabbing his father. But luckily that didn't need to happen. His father let out a bark of a laugh, continuing his way over; actually able to walk to him!

Embracing him in a hug Diot let out a sound of happiness, an exclamation of pride that his father had done it!

"You did it! I knew you could! I am so happy!"

This was an amazing moment, with this new aid Booker would be able to walk rather than stay in the burrow unable to do much on his own! Excitement running too high he began to cry a bit, tears of joy wetting his father's shoulder.

"Speech"

@Booker