ORIGIN

Kera watched intently, but tiredly. She wondered privately what Kielo would make of it, and what she would do if they hated it. She could grow more fungus, but she wasn't sure of many other kinds than the ones that produced light. She knew of only a few, but the ones she had just grown were probably the only ones she'd feed to another gembound.

For someone that regularly grew fungus, Kera sure didn't know a lot about them.

Kera shook her head. "No thank you," she said in reply to the offer for eating, gently nudging Kielo to continue eating. She had, in truth, eaten several of the fungi she'd grown. They were unpleasant. They didn't compare to the tang of blood or the thrill and pride of catching something to eat. They were weirdly-textured and got stuck between her teeth.

In hindsight, she wasn't entirely sure how Kielo was even eating them in the first place. Perhaps they were lying about liking them, so they wouldn't hurt her feelings? It wasn't like Kera particularly cared. She would rather hear the truth, but she decided not to bring this up for now.

Her gaze turned towards Kielo again onto the topic of eating living things and she nodded again. She knew it was probably best that they actually didn't, least they get addicted to the taste like Kera was. It would only lead to trouble.

She turned her eyes back towards the quickly-being-eaten cluster of mushrooms. "What do you do?" she asked. "I'm going to fix the lights and I make mushrooms."

Kera turned her head to sniff at a few downy feathers floating by her face. Kielo smelled like birds-- the same birds that had either attacked or betrayed Kera --but they didn't entirely look like a bird. They looked like half of one.

Kera didn't want to think about it too much. "You're welcome," she said with a dip of her fluffy head. "If you want more, I can grow more. I don't mind." She didn't actually properly wait for a response before she was dipping her head down further, touching the ground delicately.

More mushrooms sprouted from those that had died, pushing by the broken roots and sprouting into more white-and-brown capped fungus that nestled comfortably on the cave floor by her nose, pushing against Kera's muzzle. She straightened up again. "There, you can eat more now."

She turned her head to sniff at more drifting feathers curiously, then looked back to Kielo. "That's not a good way of thinking about it," she said with some concern. She was a little surprised. "Making friends is useful. It means people will remember you, and speak of you, and they'll tell great stories about you. They'll be there for you when you need them and you'll always have someone to talk to."

Now that Kera thought about it, did she even have any friends? Everyone left, it seemed.

"And you have a good nose," the pup continued anyway, despite the alarming thoughts of abandonment and betrayal and being attacked. "When you get used to the smells and everything in the cave, you won't get lost. You don't have to get lost right now anyway-- you can always tell people you know where you are, based on smell, can't you? You can tell them things like-- well, I know there is a river near by, and plants and mushrooms, so how could I possibly be lost? You don't have to say you're useless."

There was a pause. What made someone useful anyway? Kera wanted to be useful with her lights, her ability to grow mushrooms and her ability to hunt fish by taking them right out the water, but all that had gotten her was abandoned, with her food stolen, or attacked.

Maybe uselessness was better. Maybe it was better to be insignificant than to be significant and heroic. Kera did not know. Kera didn't think she wanted to know. The thoughts were scaring her the more she lingered on them.

There was a long pause as these thoughts continued to rush through her head.

"You're not useless," she repeated quietly.

"It's okay," reassured the pup. "The more I practice, the more I'll get even better, and the less tiring it'll be in the future." She nodded faintly, more to herself, as she watched Kielo eat.

She slowly tilted her head as she listened to them talk, thoughtful for a moment. She had assumed that everyone wanted stories told about them. "Why not?" she asked. "You can have friends and have great stories without keeping anyone or yourself back. You can still talk to them even when everyone else knows your name and your stories. You can hear about your friends being great and doing great things while doing great things yourself."

Kera paused for a moment, thinking. "Think about it this way, what do you want to do? What do you want people to know you for?" she continued. "I want to be known for fixing the lights and helping others, so that's what I do."

She nodded faintly, more to herself. "I've seen some other rooms. I've seen long tunnels and crystals on the ceiling. It's nice. I like it here, and in the crystal-place." She did not entirely know the name of this place, or the crystal-place, or any other place, but it did not entirely matter.

She watched Kielo carefully as they moved in to touch her neck. She didn't pull away-- she instead planted her head on top of Kielo's. She could smell feathers and fur and warmth. With a huff, Kera half-shut her eyes.

A part of her wished she was useless. It would have stopped the heartbreak of losing Aka, but she may not have learned that lesson if she had never gone through the trauma. It didn't matter, perhaps, so she nodded instead. "Thank you," she said softly, eyes flicking to peer into the darkness ahead.

She hoped this wasn't another future betrayal.

For a moment, Kera was only half-listening, but there was nothing in particular on her mind. In fact-- nothing at all was on her mind. She stared off into the darkness void of thought and void of emotion for several moments, only snapping out of it as she felt Kielo's head shaking against her neck.

Without entirely thinking, she slowly began licking the top of their head, tongue rasping against soft down-feathers. "I don't know," she admitted quietly. "I don't think so. Not if you don't want to, but you can do great things without being put out there for everyone to know, but even if you do there's always those out there who won't have any idea who you are, who you can tell stories to, right?"

"I don't know if it totally matters-- I don't know if it's a necessary thing," she breathed, uncertainly. "I think everyone deserves to be great. I think everyone should at least be a good person-- and I think you are a good person, Kielo. You don't deserve to feel useless or like you're not deserving of anything. There'll always be people out there to tell stories to and be kind to."

She was faintly scatter-brained, half-rambling, though her chaotic thoughts began to clear as they asked about the caves outside of Polaris. She nodded against Kielo's head, resting her head on their forehead gently. "It's nice," she said. "There's a tunnel, outside-- it leads from here to the crystal-place. It's short, and it smells a little bad, but it's winding and mossy. I grew a lot of mushrooms there-- ones with light, so that people can see when they travel through."

"The crystal room is a lot different," she explained. Although Kielo was blind, Kera would make sure they understood what she meant. "It's dark, and there's lots of rocks and winding places, but there's some light that comes from the crystals on the ceiling. They're wonderful-- white and glittering. The light helps to look around, and the smells and listening help too, but it's still difficult."

"I get around by following the walls," she said softly. "It takes a long time, but it works."