ORIGIN

For now, however, she couldn't sense a thing. Perhaps her light-magic had gotten in the way of her connection to mushrooms. Kera did not know. Kera did not care.

... she cared a little.

Kera loved her mushrooms. It would be sad if they weren't going to answer her, if they wouldn't let her help them grow. Perhaps they would lose trust in her, because she was letting them get eaten.

With a grimace, she shook her head and moved further towards the dark corner. She lay herself down, carefully, staring at the ground for a moment before she pushed her face into the soil and the dirt, exhaling and concentrating.

There was relief in the familiar sensation of her magic calling out to lingering mycelia, of the mushrooms growing out of the ground and caressing her face, as if affectionately thanking her for helping them breathe the air.

She nuzzled them in return, just as affectionate. She hadn't expected to feel such a way about mushrooms, of all things-- fully unaware of the irony that she just spoke to several rocks, incidentally --but she realised they were something of a comfort.

They were there when she needed them. They were more reliable than any owl or goose could ever be, and they would never attack her or steal her things and leave her. Mushrooms were better than birds, really.

Picking herself up again, tail wagging, she continued her quest to spread light to this tunnel. She moved to another boulder-- smaller than the previous one, but still a reasonable size, and reached out to press her face against it.

For a moment, Kera thought it had worked. She saw light under her face, but then there was searing pain as a zap of light shocked her face. She recoiled, more surprised than hurt, staring blankly at the boulder.

Light, Kera realised- unlike mushrooms --didn't seem to be particularly loyal or faithful or affectionate. Perhaps it just didn't trust her, yet-- perhaps it had no reason to trust her, but she was doing fairly well at making herself glow.

Which, incidentally, seemed to be dimming out. She should fix that, perhaps, if the light would allow her. It may not. She knew after infusing herself with light, again, she'd have to move on. Perhaps raise more mushrooms, if they were more reliable for making light with.

With a gentle but tense sigh, Kera shut her eyes.

A moment of concentration later, Kera was bathed in dim light. Weaker than before, but there was enough light for her to see through the dark tunnel-- though, with her rocks and the mushrooms, it wasn't as dark anymore.

She stepped forward, searching. Mushrooms were good and mushrooms were reliable-- she would try to feel out, again, to see where she could grow more of her mushrooms. She knew she didn't have to, but she wanted to.

... but first, there was a stubborn rock.

She turned her head back to the medium-sized boulder and forcibly pushed her head against it-- with a gentle bump, she had even hurt her own forehead --and began to concentrate hard on forcing magic into it.

There was another short grin that came across the wolf puppy's face as the rock flared up in strong light, offering more light in the tunnel. It would be easier, now, for people passing through to walk the tunnels without ramming into anything. Her work was almost done-- though she was borderline exhausted, now.

One more spell, she decided-- one more little carpet of mushrooms and she'd be on her way. She stepped along the tunnel, briefly, coming to another dark corner. This would have to do, decidedly-- before she left for Polaris to recover.

With a tired huff, she pushed her face against the ground once more.

Even the comforting touch of her bioluminescent mushrooms couldn't sway the abrupt dizziness and exhaustion that Kera felt. Pouring everything out into growing the little blue-green mushrooms had properly done her in, but that was alright.

This tunnel was quite illuminated, now. People passing by would definitely be able to see where they were going, thanks to her. Despite feeling like she might throw up that fish she caught earlier in Polaris, Kera began moving.

She moved without co-ordination, however, slowly stepping from one spot to the next with bleary, half-open eyes. With a groan, she made her way into Polaris, where she fell onto one side with a low thump and fell asleep, bathing in the sensation of Polaris' rejuvinating presence.

She slept for a long time, in the open, on one side, dreaming of doggy-paddling into open, clear water.