ORIGIN

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Black had picked his way more slowly into the mouth of the tunnel, looking up and eyeing over the leering sculptures above with a wary eye. He had listened to the fox's cheerful babble with an attentive yet absent air, like someone who is silently nodding along as they absorb the information.

By the time they reached the tunnel, though, she'd seemed more worn out. She still seemed cheery, energetic even, but her nonstop chattering had, well, stopped. Once he had looked around, taking in the carvings and sculptures of monsters, he turned his attention to Quix.

"You tire. Do you need rest?" he asked matter-of-factly. If she had to sleep, he knew that they could do so somewhere nearby before delving into this unfamiliar territory. What he didn't realize was that this place wasn't unfamiliar at all--at least, not to the fennec.

As he waited for a response, he sniffed around the entrance to the tunnel, and pawed and smelled some of the metal pieces scattered over the worn rock floor. They smelled metallic, but they did not bear that cloyingly sweet stench that the creature-who-fled did.

He looked back up to Quix, silent.

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Black pricked up large hanging ears to listen to Quix--and when she began to scamper about, and then forward, he followed. He lifted his head to gaze up at the statue as they passed beneath, and then at the strange and intricate pictures carved into worn stone above. They were monsters, leering down, and alien to him. This one with what might have been tusks, that one with narrowed eyes and pointed fangs. On he padded, pausing to sniff the walls and the floor of the cave, glancing toward Quix.

He carried on forward, speeding up into a slow and lumbering trot behind the swift fox, glancing up now and again to--...

He stopped dead in his tracks, eyes on the ceiling, nearly tripping over his own feet. Once he'd regained himself from the stumble, he began to slowly turn in place, staring up.

There, on the ceiling, was one carving with a creature like a draconic fish, all fins and claws and long, sinuous body. Black blinked his blue-grey eyes, gaze fixed upon it.

"...This is... Aquarian?" he asked, almost hesitantly, as if unsure--or perhaps half-expecting the carving to answer "yes."

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Black sat down, peering up with furrowed brow. At length he finally looked back down at Quix, solemn-faced.

"I have said that I seek he-who-fled. There was flood. Once stopped, a creature fled with scurrying skitters. It was the smell. Sweet metal. Sick copper."

Black paused, gathering his words again: this, for him, was something of a speech. He eyed the carving as he continued, speaking slowly and pondering each word.

"At flood's source, a buzzing filled the world. It deafened. We pursued. A lake in Cetus. A vast beast, a thousand times as big as I. A jaw that could swallow the Dog whole. Fangs as large as my head."

Black stared intently at Quix, hoping she could grasp what he was saying past his broken grasp of language.

"A fight. Its name, Aquarian. It spoke. It spoke of a creator: Nemean. Of a betrayal. It knew not what we were. Its orders were to feed it, and it submerged. The Dog seeks that-which-fled before, in the tunnel. That which smells of metal and sweet sick. That which, perhaps, has betrayed. A game, played upon the Aquarian. At expense of our lives. And yet--"

And here Blackstood, nodding up again at the carving of the thing that resembled his description, at least somewhat, the carving that may have been this monster called Aquarian.

"It is here, on this rock. Seen, and inscribed. Why? What is it?"

He shook his large head and looked again to Quix, lifting one heavy forepaw into the air. "Do you understand all that the Dog has said? We must reach it. I must touch this stone. Do you understand?"

And he began to look around, searching for something, perhaps, to stand on, so that he could reach the carvings above.

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Black looked up in surprise as Quix spoke, craning his head to peer at the fennec which now perched on his rump. He then swung his head to stare at the--well, stairs, peering up and down to try and get an idea of what she meant. Oh, there--if he climbed to the top, maybe he could lean up and reach the ceiling-carvings? And there was a crumble of rock just there that he could use to get higher. He just had to hope it didn't collapse

"I may fall, little one. Be ready to jump."

But it was just stone stairs, and a boulder, and he made it up easily enough. Pawpads quietly scraped over rock, muscles bunching and pushing as he hauled himself up and over the boulder, until he could carefully--very carefully--and slowly raise up onto his hind legs. He wasn't sure if Quix could hold on--maybe she could--but he knew she wouldn't be hurt; his focus was on the carvings.

He gingerly lifted one large paw to press against the Stone-Aquarian, pale eyes intent upon it. He could feel something in him, something itching to connect to this stone, to learn its secrets. But first, he paused, great ears pulling back, toward the Fennec.

"I would not have seen this way up. Thank you." Quix was indeed the 'brains.'

His focus shifted back to the stone, and he was quiet for a time, just watching it. His paw leaned upward, at an awkward angle, so that he could touch the carving.

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Black furrowed wrinkled brow in concentration, thinking. He turned back to the carvings on the ceiling, eyeing them, again lifting one paw from his precarious perch over the stairs to touch one, speaking as he did so.

"Usui. The Dog does not know this name. It has not come to the Void. Where can it be found?"

His voice was a rumble of slow focus, and this time as he touched the stone, a flood of... something, jarred his mind. He slowly dropped back to the ground, filing it away--keeping it to himself, for now, to be pondered over later. For now, they ought to find this Usui. But Black didn't even know where to start.

"Which way?" he prompted, peering back at the queenly Fennec perched on his back.