ORIGIN

The wraith was genuinely hungry now, having not eaten since her hatching some time ago. Her stomach growled constantly at her, forcing her to stand on wobbly legs and move about in search of some food she might actually be able to tolerate. She had gone farther out into Cetus than ever before, though still, if she turned, she just barely see the silhouette of the Divine standing tall in the fog. She stopped then, feeling quite nervous at the prospect of being unable to see her silent guardian. She looked forward again, dark eyes scanning the marshland for some spot of green. She found a shrub sticking up out of the mud and went to it, gazing at it with disdain.

With a sigh like a chill wind, she bent her head down and began chewing on the plant, but a few moments later, she brought her head up and coughed. The taste of it had been so horrid that she just couldn’t continue. She quickly found a puddle of muddy water and lapped at it. That, too, caused discomfort, but it was not as bad as the mushy leaves of the shrub. She washed the taste away with the water and then stood in the fog, wondering how she was ever to get rid of her hunger.

Othello left Orion briefly in search of herbs and other things now that he was moving in to Orion and leaving Monoceros for good. Once his child was born, Orion would be it's home, so he decided to stay there instead of the place where nothing but memories haunted him. At least with this new stone, he hadn't thought about Odyssey.

Cetus wasn't a desirable place for the mutant, and the immediate humidity he felt when walking in nearly made him audibly groan. Instead, his brows just furrowed and his lips pursed. He had to make his trip here quick, not that he planned on staying long in the first place.

He had a few things gathered in his jaws, mostly just some leaves and sticks, when he saw a little white thing before him near a muddy puddle. Othello didn't really blend in much, so he hardly tried to keep himself hidden. He nearly tripled in length alone, if not more, and his height was around the same, just different stature. He was long for a beast trying to sneak around through a forest, so he didn't try.

Stepping before the white deer fawn, he said nothing, just like always. He couldn't put words in the childs head, but instead, settled for trying to grow a little mushroom between his paws. The thing looked hungry, and now that he had a child growing back in Orion, he didn't necessarily feel like freaking anyone out right now, especially a child.

With the leaves and things still in his jaws, he focused his energy to the dirt between his paws and tried to grow a mushroom for the child. Now, whether it'd eat it or stomp it into the dirt was their own choice, but Othello figured he'd at least try. Instead, nothing came. Oh well, now it just looked like he was staring at his paws for no reason. That was okay too, Othello knew he was pretty weird.

The wraith was surprised to see a long creature appear before her out of the gloom. Her dark eyes rested upon them a bit nervously, only because she had not expected them to suddenly be there. However, after a moment, she deemed them non-threatening. They were staring down at their paws for some reason, so she looked between their paws, as well, trying to find the reason. Perhaps they were nervous, or shy. She didn’t want them to feel nervous, so she took a breath and gave her best whispered, “Hello…” It was one of the few words she had heard enough times for it to stick, and she thought she could pick out its meaning. It was a greeting, wasn’t it? She hoped so. Still, she didn’t know how all the other creatures she met had voices that were so loud! Her voice only ever came out in a whisper. She rather liked it, though she imagined it might make her difficult to hear from far away.

Her body trembled uncontrollably as she continued to lose what little energy she had left. A headache had been making its home inside of her skull for some time. She needed to try to eat again soon, or find some other way to gain sustenance, or she would die.

The fawn stood before him, clearly young and newly hatched. He himself would have a newly hatched child soon, or however long it took them to grow. Having never watched a gem grow and hatch from start to finish, he didn't know how long that cycle took. Was it just a cycle, or many cycles? He hoped it was sooner rather than later.

A soft greeting was offered, but there was more in it than that. The fawn trembled as she stood, clearly weak. His eyes narrowed and he thought for a moment. He could just take this fawn out of its misery and kill it, or he could just try to grow it more food. It took him probably too long to come up with an answer, based on someone with morals anyway, but finally he focused on his paws again.

Again, nothing came. He didn't stare at them too long this time, instead looking back towards the child. Why didn't she just eat the grass littering the ground? She was a deer, right?

The ghost was drifting farther and farther away with every second, the cold seeping into her bones and that, combined with her starvation, causing her to sink to the ground, no longer able to stand. She forgot the other Gembound near her, unaware of its existence. Right in front of her was the green, soggy plant she had been unable to get down minutes before. In desperation, she munched on it again, and found to her surprise that she could actually get some of it down this time. She gave a small smile and continued eating until the plant was gone. Hungrily, she nosed around for more and began nibbling at whatever bits of green were in the mud around her. She could feel her energy slowly returning, though her stomach was also beginning to protest a bit to the foreign sensation of food.

[Editing in an Exit.]

The ghost ate for some time, despite the protest going on in her gut, until she felt sufficiently full enough to stand again. She became aware of the other Gembound once more, but no longer cared for their presence. It was simply her way. Her social skills were not where they should have been, and would never be, and so she turned and disappeared into the fog. She did not look back.

[Exit Alaska.]