ORIGIN

There had been a crack.

He wasn't sure, at first, what it was; he hadn't been quite asleep, more drowsing up on his ledge near the light-orbs. Now he could hear a soft shuffling. It was not too far away, and after a moment, curious, he hauled himself up. His long, serpentine body slipped forward, scales glinting in the bright light.

Nothing ever came up here. Not that he had seen, at least. His den, full of shining stones and singing crystals, had long been safely left alone.

Now, with a huff, he began to slowly crawl down the narrow trail leading down, his horned head craned toward the sound. It was strange; when he had been smaller, the trail had been easy to traverse. Now, he was nearly falling off the sides--he had simply grown too large, and he hadn't come up on foot in so long that he had not realized.

With a grumble he turned, spreading wings and dropping into nothingness, leathery limbs unfurling to catch the air. He felt the familiar pleasure of the updraft catching his descent, felt his tail lash downward and back up as he began beating his wings, regaining his balance. He then turned, and flew out a bit from the wall, peering back to inspect the ledge.

It took him a moment to spot the bear cub--a small, furred black thing on a ledge with no trail down. Curious, he lowered himself further, dropping until he was face-to-face with the baby, or nearly so. It was barely as large as his foot--not even--and he had no idea what it was. Was it even a greater gembound, capable of speech..? Did it live here? How had it gotten here? It had, so far as he could see, no wings.

"Who are you?" he rumbled at last, bass voice quizzical with bewilderment.

The dragon dropped, wings batting backward, in a fierce flinch as the stone bounced off his scales. He peered as it fell, then idly dove down after it, sharp eyes nearly losing track of it as it tumbled down toward the ground far below.

There were a couple of gemstone pieces there, he saw, and in his greed for shiny objects, he carefully gathered each of them in his claws. He was there for a few moments, frustratedly scuffling the tiny stones into his massive forelimbs, before finally leaping back into the air. Wings beat as he made his way back up to where the baby bear had hatched.

"STONES!" he bellowed in approval. "ARE THERE MORE!?" His voice, bass and loud as it was, was completely uncontrolled in his enthusiasm, a boom of unrestrained sound. He then hovered there, wings beating, long tail lashing beneath: a twenty-five-foot-long dragon, staring down expectantly at a newborn Gembound the size of his tail tip. He assumed that it was giving him gifts, and so he added, in another excited bellow--remembering what the bird-dog White had taught him--"THANK YOU."

Dread blinked.

It would give him more, and all he had to do was fly? Why, that was easy! He'd carried plenty of rocks and lots of prey before. He'd have to be careful not to hurt this thing, though--it was so small.

He rumbled his assent. "YES." And then, as if to temper this with at least some measure of dignity, he added--"I accept your exchange!"

Cautious, he edged forward, reaching out a taloned hind limb as he bobbed up and down, trying his best to pick the bear cub up in a foot. He still had stones clutched precariously in the single-clawed digit on each wing-limb, so this was taking a great deal of concentration!

Carefully he picked her up, keeping his talons not quite pointed at her, and then he slipped back from the ledge--his wings never ceasing their beating. Down he glided, turning and banking, long tail lashing out behind him. The cliffs slipped past, the 'sky' falling away until at last he reached the cave floor, where it stretched warm and vast over the Gorge. Here he slowed, and then hovered, lowering himself by gradual increments until he could safely deposit the cub on the ground.

He then thumped down beside it, leaning on wings and supported by feet, turning his big head to inspect the creature. "What are you?" he asked, curious--and loud.

Dread stared down, blinking.

For a moment he was proud that the little one thought, perhaps, that he was a shiny--so much so that he was tempted to say yes. Yes, I am a fabulous diamond. But it was also wondering if it, itself was an "exchange" which was confusing to say the least.

After a moment he spoke simply; as he did, he shifted the little shards of stone from prior so that they were now held in his feet, instead of his wing-claws.

"I am Dread! I am a dragon," he explained. "I do have many rocks." And then, in a spurt of impulsive magnanimity, he added his final bit of knowledge: "You must always say thank you when given a gift!" There. Now he had imparted his worldly wisdom to the bear.

He looked around, snorting hot air as he considered the little one's survival prospects for the first time. There was not a lot it could eat, here--or did it eat meaty things, too? "There are rats and bats below but once I ate one of the bats and became very sick, so now I do not. I burn them from far if they come closer. There are deer down in the gorge. There was a wolf who came and attacked but I set that on fire," he added, "and a creature that tried to steal my stones, but I set that on fire as well. I do not know what of these things you can eat! Or what might eat you."

He had a memory, briefly, of himself as a hatchling--lonely and alone in Fornax, learning to hunt, to fly, without any guidance. He did not think that it had been pleasant; he had longed for company. Perhaps this knowledge, at least, would help Brontide.

Such as it was.