Her back hurt. It'd taken her a while to realise that her back hurt, but it most certainly did. Was it the way she was positioned? It seemed a little likely, she hadn't quite felt this way the last time a startled cave deer trampled her to almost-death. How Shoal was even alive enough to have these thoughts was, quite honestly, beyond her. She knew where she was, at least.
An amber chrysalis sat in the marsh, where it had been for several cycles, golden against murky greens and browns. Within it: Shoal. Half-recovering, half-too-lazy-to-actually-come-out. It seemed like she always ended up in the same place, time and time again.
Her chrysalis wasn't going to give her much of a choice this time, however-- with each passing day (or what Shoal percieved to be a day) it seemed to grow tighter and tighter. And now, Shoal's back hurt. The owl was faced with a very serious question. Which was worse, facing the outside, or being crushed by your own chrysalis?
A few moments after this question rose in her mind, a talon shattered out of the thin yellow shell of the gemstone.
And then, another. Soon, the chrysalis was crumbling away and out of it came a bleary-eyed grey owl, blinking in the weak light of Cetus, and shaking herself dry of the fluids seeping out of the confinements of the stone. "Caaaaaves," she groaned, voice low and rasping.
She took some uncertain steps, scarred wings folding up into her sides as she stepped towards the shore, bending down to take a long drink out of the murky waters.
Given Shoal's track record, a full minute outside her chrysalis without being attacked was a good start. She drank her fill, washing away the various foul tastes in her mouth. She lifted her head, beginning to stretch out before she noticed. Something.
... standing right there.
Perhaps it was too soon to think she was doing well-- whatever had decided to stop right in front of her was about the same size as Shoal was, which was disconcerting enough. But it was not attacking, or not yet, at least.
Is it even sentient...? The ragged owl wondered, her ugly, scarred head turning to briefly survey the swamp around them. It didn't look like it was part of a pack or a herd of any sort, and the creature almost looked.. afraid, perhaps?
What was she meant to do? Well-- she at least knew what the first thing was. The old owl unfurled her wings in silence, flapping and lifting herself off the ground. She didn't go very far; only up onto a nearby boulder, overlooking the bobcat.
There was safety in height, even if it were only a few feet off the ground itself. The ground is where Shoal had met her own chrysalis several times now-- but what now? She took a look over the cat below with a low grumble.
"What are you doing?" She eventually asked after a few beats, still settling herself down on her new perch with long talons scraping uncomfortably against the rock.
@Selena
Shoal's amber eyes shut for a few very long moments. If she had the means to, she'd likely be holding her head in her proverbial hands at this point. "Stop shouting," was her immediate, hissing reply, her voice croaking with disuse. She'd spoken, fleetingly, to other greater gembounds in the past but none had been quite on the verge of giving her an immediate migraine like this one.
Some had come damn close, though.
When the shaggy beast opened her eyes again her face was dimly-lit by her own glowing pupil, staring down for what might have been another few cycles. In that time, Shoal came to a couple of conclusions. One: this one was afraid. Two: Shoal must have looked terrifying. A further, but brief glance over her own body proved that to be highly likely. Three: this one was probably young.
She didn't have much proof for that last one, however, but that didn't matter. Shoal had no idea how long she'd been in that chrysalis, or the last one, or the one before that. It was... reasonable, that the bobcat would just assume she could take a chunk of the chrysalis and go. And why shouldn't she?
Her massive, severe head slowly swayed towards the general direction of the shattered chrysalis. "Take it. I sure as hell have no use for it," she rasped curtly, eyeing the damned thing spitefully. She hated those chrysalises. She hated going into them. She hated losing. "What magic experiment is your friend is doing and what does he need broken gems for?"
Her voice, on this last addition, was laced with vague suspicion. She'd heard vague rumours-- as they often spread throughout the caves --of murderers and the like who killed in cold blood, and took the gems off greaters to indoctrinate children into some murder-army. Shoal half-hoped it was only stories, but one could never be too careful, surely? Even if it seemed unlikely that the bobcat was capable of murder, she seemed naive enough to Shoal that she could have gotten tricked into someone else's bidding.
There was a pause.
"I'm not going to hurt you," she grunted. "I have no idea what would have given you that impression but I don't keep a habit of attacking people who haven't done anything wrong. And I doubt you plan to sit there and start confessing to a complete stranger."
@Selena
Half-lidded eyes followed the bobcat lazily as she crossed the marsh in front of the boulder and reached for the remains of Shoal's chrysalis. There was a faint ruffle of feathers as the ragged owl shook herself out absently, trying to wash away the gnawing feeling of doubt and suspicion.
At first, the only reply Selena received to her gratitude was a very faint nod, more noticeable in the way that it touseled the loose downy feathers around the owl's neck than in the actual movement itself. She watched, and she listened, and eventually clacked her scarred beak.
The abrupt sound might as well have been a gunshot, however. "Orion," she echoed gruffly, wracking her mind to remember what room that was. It was either the room with the white quartz in it, or the one with the Spire. Despite this, she had some questions, amber eyes narrowing somewhat. "What was the story about?"
Briefly, the owl moved on the rock to follow Selena as she moved along, talons clicking methodically against the stone. Almost too delicately, considering the ugly beast it was coming from. She stared down, imperiously, scanning through which questions to prioritize in asking. "What did he teach you?" She eventually concluded, leaning over the rock to peer a little more closely at the cat below.
After a short pause, the owl's haggard face twisting as much as a bird face could, she ruffled her feathers out again, a few grey-tawny downs shedding out of her back and falling into the marsh-water. "What use does anyone have for dyes?" She asked. "You don't have an interest in it, but others supposedly do? Or are these other gembounds that he has favours to ask of?"
@Selena
Shoal's attention idly shifted from the bobcat to the remains of the chrysalis with a low, croaking trill. She began wondering if pieces of it were actually of any value-- Selena seemed fairly interested in it, at least, which meant others might be too. Maybe she should save a piece for herself, too, just in case.
It's not like there were any shortages of shattered amber chrysalises out there, however. She let out another croak before turning her head back towards the bobcat, listening. At first, she didn't quite understand the story either, but her mind quickly got to work.
She went over the words again and again in her mind, picking it apart, considering the details. If it were similar to Polaris, then perhaps it was Polaris, a very long time ago. Unrecognizable. "What colour were the lights?" Shoal eventually asked, drawing a conclusion after mulling over what rocks glowed in Polaris.
... most of them, really, but the Spire tended to stick out to most.
"Did you ask the Painter what it meant?" She continued wearily, somewhat distantly. It seemed obvious that she would, but you never quite knew with these gembound. Some preferred to live their lives just accepting whatever was thrown their way with little questions asked.
She let out another grumble to Selena's response about what the Painter had taught her, but pried no further into it. Merely, she concluded that it was magic for show rather than of any practical use and left the subject alone.
Shoal began lifting herself up straight again. It was unclear what she was planning to do, however, because she paused at Selena's last sentence. Is she... mocking me? She wondered. Or is she just an observer?
... is she even a greater?
The thought of a sentient lesser gembound, somehow, sent a raw chill down Shoal's spine, the feathers upturning along the back of her neck. Was it even possible? Surely if this one could think and speak and observe, it would be a greater gembound.
She tried not to think about it too hard, ruffling her feathers out to flatten them again. "Our existence is a mystery," she answered grimly, bare eyelids half-falling over her eyes. "Some say the caves are all there is and some speak of an outside. A surface high above. We do not know who made us, or why, what our purpose is, or if there is anything more lingering out there."
"Surely you can forgive some of us for wanting answers to these things, aye?"
@Selena