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It is cold.
His awareness shivered into being with this realization, mind coming awake for the first time.
And then,
It is dark.
For a time the large creature of flesh-and-bone, bound around a heart of cold black stone, lay quietly pondering his situation.
It is time.
With an abrupt, low, rumbling growl--not unlike the shifting and tumbling of heavy boulders--he pushed forward, straining against his crystal cocoon.
Crack. And then again.
Craaack.
Within a moment of gaining sentience, the creature had broken free of his black stone pod, tumbling forward in a tangle of clumsy young dog limbs and wrinkled skin coated in velvet black.
He lay there for a moment, eyes peering up from beneath the sad wrinkled gaze, pondering his situation.
It is cold.
The floor beneath him was slick, cold and pale. It was not stone, not like what he had been in. He pulled himself upright, looking down at the ice.
He was a black dog. He observed this, and he accepted it. He did not yet have the words for it, but he knew what he was.
And he knew he had a purpose. It was time to find it.
He looked up, and around, gazing at the new place before him--the shattered remains of his black stone egg already lying forgotten behind him.
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Majesty was struggling. He had never encountered ice before, and it was seriously hindering his ability to walk. Plus, he was going uphill. With an annoyed and pained grunt, he face-planted into the slippery floor for the third time in a minute, sliding down the slope a good foot or two and essentially erasing all of his progress. He tapped his chin on his paws multiple times, trying to decide whether to just completely give up, or to keep going… In the end, he drew his brows together in determination and opted to try again. He was a King! Kings didn’t give up. Now if only there was a way he could see where he was going a bit more… This tunnel seemed a bit darker than the others and the fact that he couldn’t see as well probably wasn’t helping his chances of making it up the hill…
His body began to Glow, which was something he was slowly getting used to. He found a bit of purchase under his paws and stood up, shivering a little in the cold. His thick fur helped shield him from the temperature of the tunnel, but not completely. His breath came out in little puffs as he used his Glow to look around a bit… There! He spotted a part of the path that wasn’t so slippery-looking and made his way painstakingly forward… -- and that’s when he heard the Crack! He jumped, but luckily did not slip, and immediately looked up, squinting in the distance, trying to see what had made the noise. It sounded… familiar. Craaaack!
Now he was running, and going not much farther along the path than when he had been walking. But now he needed to be sure! Was it another Gembound being born? Like when he had met Farrah? He just had to know!
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The Black Dog tried to stand, only to slide back to the ice with a slipping whomp of face on ground. He lay still for a moment, calculating, and then slowly, methodically rose up one paw at a time.
There is light.
His head snapped up abruptly, cocking to one side, pale blue-grey eyes peering out. There was a skittering, a scratching, growing rapidly louder. He wasn't sure what the sound was, but it was coming his way, and the warm glow on the walls of the tunnel ahead was growing brighter and brighter.
Black stepped back, immediately on the defensive, lowering his head and growling very softly to himself. Instinct washed over him, darkness frothing forth from his stone heart to spread through his form...
(post-roll) But nothing happened. He skittered backwards, rump hitting the stone, staring with tense alarm toward the whatever-was-coming, the shadow ebbing, subsiding back down into him. It was weak, still. It would not yet help him.
He barked once, twice, in deep and throaty warning.
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Generally, Majesty was of a calm sort. But being nearly newborn still meant that sometimes he forgot that it was better to go slowly than it was to run. Of course, he loved running, and the feeling of freedom it gave him. What he needed to learn was when to run – and when to not run. Running across ice, for example, was not the best of ideas. He could very easily slip at any time. His paw-pads were not very helpful on slippery surfaces, especially when on an incline. And when he heard the first of two warning barks, it surprised him to no end…
He felt himself start to slip, all four legs slowly spreading outward. If he didn’t catch his balance in the next second, he was going to end up belly-down on the ice and possibly sliding toward a threat of some kind. Why oh why hadn’t he thought this through? Gritting his teeth, he used all the muscle and control he had to pull his legs back under him properly and skid to a halt. When he was satisfied that he wasn’t going to go slipping off into oblivion across the ice, he let out a soft bark of greeting. He made sure the message was clear: “I’m not here to hurt you, whoever you are. I just want to say hello!”
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There is a creature.
Black's long ears pricked up, his square head rising and tilting to one side. He pondered--rather ponderously, his thoughts slowly moving from logic point to logic point without words.
It is making itself known. It is not a hostile sound. It is not threat.
He straightened, a bit, and began to move toward the sound at a slow walk, stalking carefully over the ice on oversized mastiff-puppy paws. Walking was new to him, yet it came naturally--if clumsily. He slipped, now and again, and his muscles trembled. But his mind was elsewhere. The bark was far more important than his newly-emerged body.
Even without a language to describe his thoughts allowed, the questioning feeling was there:
What is this?
His fear draining away, he managed the edge of the smoother section of ice, stepping cautiously into the edge of the glowing pool of light--blinking as his pale eyes adjusted.
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Majesty watched as a great big lumbering shadow came into view before him. He seriously thought this – whatever this was – was bigger than him! It looked… sort of Wolf-like, though not quite. It had too many wrinkles on its face, and the shape of its body wasn’t quite right and its fur wasn’t long enough. Majesty was curious about the creature. A boy. It was a boy. He looked at his pale blue-grey eyes and found that he rather liked the color. In fact, he found that he rather liked the creature as a whole. Some part of him was a little bit afraid, for there was something a little bit imposing about the big Kind-of-Wolf.
Majesty found himself wondering what to say to a creature who gave off such an imposing aura. The Kingly side of him demanded he always know exactly what to say all the time, but young and more realistic side of him knew that sometimes the right words were impossible to find… Somehow, though, he managed to find the words. “Hello!” he yipped happily, shrugging off the imposing feeling. “I’m Majesty. What’s your name?” Step one of making friends: introductions. Majesty decided never to judge a book by its cover again. Maybe the big slightly-scary creature was just lonely. He was determined to befriend him.
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It was cheery, this other creature. Friendly. Inoffensive. Had it come for him, expecting his hatching? Was it his master, perhaps, this thick-furred thing on slender legs? It was not as dark as he, but as larger or larger, and the gem-thing--did he have one of those? His thoughts twitched as the creature spoke again, a wordless miasma of semi-conscious thought.
It is speaking. Words. What do they mean? It looks the way I do, yet different. Is it kindred? Family?
Black tilted his head to one side, wrinkles drooping, ears pricked up. He took several strides toward the other, offering out his nose, snuffling deeply. At the same time, he spoke--or tried to.
The sounds are symbols. Symbols of thought. But what is their meaning?
He mulled its words over in his head.
"Hello." He mimicked the first word carefully, voice deep despite his youth, heavy wrinkles giving him a frowning appearance despite his gentle approach and offered snout.
It was as good a greeting as he could manage.
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Majesty happily accepted the offer of the big male’s nose, coming forth himself with a wagging tail. He seemed to have figured out how to traverse the ice without completely failing, and had no trouble touching noses with the soft, wrinkly guy. They sniffed one another curiously, and by way of greeting. While this was happening, Majesty’s Glow went out, no longer able to sustain itself since he was not thinking about it anymore. The tunnel became darker again, but it was all right with him. He didn’t need the light now, anyways. He leaned back and gave the big brute a smile, just in time to hear him speak for the first time.
”Hello,” the Kind-of-Wolf said, in a slow, deep voice, much like what Majesty’s would be when he grew a bit older.
“Hello,” Majesty repeated softly, realizing his new friend didn’t really know how to speak yet. So, he opted for silence instead, sitting down on the cold icy floor and waiting. He had to learn patience at some point, right? He would let the black-furred male figure everything out on his own, unless he was specifically needed.
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The not-dog had stepped back and sat down.
The Black Dog watched him. This creature had come for him, and seemed to be waiting for something; Black--now entirely at ease with the other's presence--wasn't sure what the "something" was.
And so, he sat down, ears pricked up, watching Majesty intently. Black didn't show a great deal of overt curiosity, all things considered--nor anything at all, really. He just waited, infinitely patient even so young, watching the chocolate-furred wolf and waiting.
The faint hiss and crack of ice came and went from the nearby tunnel; the warm glow around the wolf faded.
Still, the Dog waited, and watched.
What are we waiting for?
his mind asked itself.
For orders, his own thoughts replied.
After a long moment, he pricked up his ears again, staring at the brown wolf.
"Hello," he tried again.
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Majesty was a King-in-the-Making, sure, but that didn’t mean he had all the answers all the time. Sometimes it took him a while. And sometimes, he never came to the right conclusion. So, as the two of them sat there staring back and forth at one another, he felt himself feeling more and more awkward. When the big Wolf-Ish suddenly repeated the word hello, he wondered if maybe the creature was mentally challenged… His ears went back along his skull as he tried to think of a way to communicate with the brute. How could he talk to someone who wasn’t… all there?
But, as he stared into the big boy’s eyes, he finally realized! His wolf instincts, the ones he had anyway, kicked in. The creature wasn’t stupid! He was submissive! He was waiting for Majesty to lead the way. Which was, actually, quite perfect. Perhaps the boy would be his first real follower. He’d need more before he could make a pack, but gaining his first one might help his momentum along. “Tell me your name,” he said, knowing full well that the dog didn’t understand words yet. But he’d have to learn, and he wouldn’t learn unless someone taught him. “Your name,” he repeated, and leaned forward, pointing his muzzle at the boy.
Then he stood and backed up, and motioned at himself by looking down at his own chest and over his shoulders as if examining himself. Then he said, “Majesty. Maj-eh-stee.” He walked slowly back to the dog and nuzzled his nose into its fur, then pulled back and asked, “What is your name?” He had no idea if this would work, but he had to try.