ORIGIN

Dragon hated this tunnel. It was cold. Nothing had the right to be this cold.

He huffed, careful not to drop the five red... or rather, reddish... stones carefully nestled in his maw. He had left Cetus, and he would spend a brief time here searching for stones beneath the ice. As long as he could handle this damn cold, at least.

Why was it so COLD?

The alligator grumbled, and stomped up to where the ground was fairly... well, reddish, beneath the ice. If he could melt some with his fire, maybe he'd find a few loose stones, pebbles, or whatnot beneath? Things he could take to the birds? Things he could be fairly confident were not, in fact, the gems-to-be-reborn of some horrific Raheerah-like thing.

Of course, horrific was a matter of perspective. Dragon also thought that the actual dragon was, well, awe-inspiring. As it had once been with the great Aquarian, dragon both wanted to defeat Raheerah, and to be him.

Which was why he was collecting red stones. The birds were supposedly offering wings, for these, and by the Heart of Cetus, how he wanted to fly! Clearly, all he needed were some wings, and he would be as mighty as Raheerah.

Again, Dragon had no idea--he had not been told--that the wings were not real. That they were some illusory spell or other, some magic; he thought he'd be able to finally glide around the caves, and see all from above, and roar from a mighty perch without risk (...this time) of falling off the damn Spire.

With all of this in mind, the alligator concentrated on focusing heat in his feet, to try and melt away the ice where it lay above the reddish stone.

Soon he was gritting his teeth against the pain, and smoke slowly rose from his scaled and clawed feet. Rivulets of water ran down from the ledge, and he turned his body over and over to ensure he would melt away as much as he could, while able to still maintain the magic.

Dragon grumbled, clawing his way over the now-exposed stone, listening for any that might have come loose. He was barely providing any firelight even with his maw open, the glittering gullet casting only the faintest glow. With a deep hiss of frustration he closed his mouth and began to nudge at the rock, feeling with his more sensitive snout whether anything was loose, and free for the taking.

There was nothing, though; nothing but smooth cold ground, and the alligator growled in annoyance.

This place was terrible.

Terrible and he hated it.

He turned, hauling his hot feet over to another section of ice, nudging and clawing about there, instead. If he didn't find anything here, and relatively soon, he'd move on. The question was--where to? He knew the route well enough--first to the glowing core, then through another tunnel to the star-cave. But there were other places, too, and so long as he was careful not to get lost, wouldn't it bear some exploration? He might learn some things.

Then again... his leg was already aching where the dragon had long ago broken it. This damn cold wasn't helping, either. No-... It might be best just to press on. But first, he had to find ROCKS. He intended to get his wings, no matter how he had to earn them.

Claws scraped over the thin ice, the broad snout nosing at the stone beneath.

Nope--nothing here.

He moved on again, pressing his head under a ledge, diligently scraping his jaw over the ground beneath to see if anything loose moved in there. Diligently, and quickly, because he wanted to be gone from this cold and frozen hell.

He checked the walls, and--grumbling--made his way toward the entrance to the glowing-cave. The place where they'd fought Raheerah--the place where he'd rested for many weeks, recovering from his injuries from that battle.

Hrm.

He'd move on, soon. But maybe there'd be something to find closer to the warmer places.

Here. It was warmer, here, with a soft blue glow from the Spire beyond. Dragon lifted his snout and sniffed the air, then turned, half feeling his way along the rock's edge.

He wasn't entirely sure there was anything loose to be found, here, but if there wasn't, he'd just press on. Forget the cave ahead, though--unless he could find stuff in the river, perhaps. As it stood, he knew Polaris to be a place full of others, usually, and he had no desire to interact. No; he would gather rocks here, then slip on into Orion's disgustingly dry buildings and search there.

He stopped here, and began to nose about on the ground--looking at first for any loose rocked at all, and then, if he could find any, for any that were red.

After a moment, he felt the damp grit under his jaw. He nudged a few loose, then backed up, tilting his head down so he could see them.

There! That one, that pebble there, that was red!

Carefully, taking a few moments, he scooped it up to join the other stones in his mouth. Six, now? He thought he had six.

With a satisfied huff, the alligator started to turn, looking for any more that might be lying close nearby the first.

Dragon took one last look over the loose stones and pebbles near Polaris's entrance, sniffing and nudging at them.

There--one was red. Number seven! Cautiously he nudged this one away from the others, and carefully scooped this one up, too. Had anyone seen him in that moment, they might have wondered just why a big, bulky black alligator was picking up a tiny red rock--but nobody was there to see it.

He then lifted himself up, slowly but steadily high-walking toward the tunnel exit--and the cave entrance. He laid himself down for awhile, staring and listening into Polaris. He didn't want to encounter anyone, if he could help it. He'd just-... slip through, and head straight for Orion. And be out of this damn cold hell of a tunnel.

At length, the alligator lifted himself up again, once he judged the cave ahead to be empty and quiet enough for him to make his rush through the darkness. With a scratching of claws and whispering of his rough tail dragging over stone, he was gone from the tunnel entirely.

Wings, here I come!