ORIGIN

Serek stepped through the cold, damp, misty swamp, shivering as his body attempted to get used to this new kind of chill. Canis was easier, even if the air was colder, as it was dry and dusty and it was too easy just to fluff up his coat. However, the cold mud and damp air that stuck to his pelt penetrated his skin and gave him a chill he could barely handle.

It had been a few days since he had come here to join the Children of Rot and he already missed home so much it hurt.

He missed the dry bones crunching under his feet, he missed the open, dusty air. He missed Mother and his Siblings so much, he didn't know what to do. He was just alone, so alone. Sure, he had the other Children, but he was terrified of them. He didn't know them well and some of them were a lot bigger then him, especially Dragon and Ghanyarah. Although he knew Dragon meant him no harm, he didn't like the look the komodo gave him.

With a sigh, he found a partially dry area where he was able to sit down comfortably. Without really thinking about it, he touched the ground with his snout and let a number of different fungus spring from the ground. There weren't too many, but he enjoyed growing them all the same.

As he continued to think and think, trying to push down the fear and accumulate himself to this situation he had gotten himself into, he reached forward and snatched a mushroom at random. He picked at it absentmindedly, thinking of the Children and of Aquarion. He still had his doubts that Dragon's father even cared about them. Sure, Dragon had told him stories of the Children of Rot in the past, but that didn't mean things were still the same. He crinkled his nose and tore the mushroom in half at the thought of the rotting carcasses stacked near the pool.

He looked down at the sound of the tearing mushroom and saw the interior, the way he had sliced through it. Something stirred in the back of his mind, something strange and thoughtful. He had his fair share of torn mushrooms. He sometimes grew them to eat and occasionally made them too big to eat in one bite. But this, there was something different.

He ran a claw along the shapes of the inside and something clicked in his mind. There were patterns here. He could see them. Faint, just out of reach.

He grabbed another mushroom and ripped it open. It looked so different, but still, he could see a pattern.

He looked between the two and wondered what this all meant. Was this what Mother saw in the bones? Was this his reading? Instead of reading the bones he was reading the rot? But he couldn't read it. He saw words, but no way of comprehending them.

He reached for a third and tore it open as well. Another. He set them down and thought hard and long. What would he make of this?

Serek didn't notice the aye aye approaching, too concerned with trying to divine some meaning out of the mushrooms. He picked up the first two halves and looked at them closely. It almost seemed that the tear he had created some kind of image that refused to comprehend in his brain. It was like someone else was reading in the back of his head and he they wouldn't tell him what it meant.

The mushroom was sturdy, it didn't break easily under my claws. But once I did, it went quickly. And these lines within, they are small. Quick. I don't know what this means.
He set the mushroom down again and thought for another moment before he looked up, just out of instinct. His heart nearly leaped out of his chest at the sight of the scrawny little creature in front of him, staring at him and his mushrooms, looking as if it was barely interested.

He didn't move, though, he was too shocked. How had he not noticed anyone approaching? It was small, though, perhaps the falls of its feet were too light for him to hear. But...what was it doing anyways? "Uh, can I help you?" Yes, keep controlled. He was part of this family now, he belonged here. This thing...he had never seen it before, so it obviously wasn't a Child of Rot. That meant he was in a stronger position then them. It gave him a boost of confidence to think about this.