ORIGIN

Siren listened, and watched Dread eat noisily, as she ate quietly but fairly quickly, gaining a good rhythm of cutting cooked pieces off and putting them into her mouth whenever she swallowed. He didn't seem to be chewing as much as she did-- and he was eating way more than he was, and much more quicker.

"I dunno what I am either," Serendipity pointed out between strips of meat. "How'd you figure out what you were? Did someone else tell you?" Maybe there was just-- an assigned Other Gembound to tell everyone what was what, and where things where, and people, like Glory or the Thing With Horns.

The child twisted the knife over in her hand for a moment, observing the sparkly gold flecks against her skin. "Maybe I'll go find the Thing," she said. "And make some dye, after I learn how to make shinies. Could you put dye on shiny things to make them shinier?"

It seemed logical, at least-- but she did also want more than just flecks on her skin. The markings sprawling up either side of Dread looked really pretty, too, like fire.

Though, she was, in fact, still eating. "I'm not done yet," she mumbled, her mouth full. As the dragon's head came close she leaned over to the hunk of raw meat and sawed a sizeable (in her standards) piece off to offer it to Dread, before she went back to eating the cooked portions.

"Does he live here?" She asked. "And, uh, what does an eagle look like? Does he look like you, but smaller, if everything in the caves is smaller than you?"

"Oh, I know birds," Siren nodded. She'd seen the occasional Hallowed Caller and Caroller passing by and was able to identify them as 'birds,' at least. Which meant, at least, Glory must have looked like one of those. Maybe he had one leg, or one eye, or maybe one wing.

She cut herself off another slice, and then some more for Dread. "I can make things somewhere else," she offered. "So that it doesn't make a lot of noise for you and stuff. And then I'll make better shinies than Glory does." A pause. "What does a forge look like?"

For a moment she considered the dragon's words carefully, as she extended her hand out to the mound of haunch/rib/Caves-knows-what meat on the ground again. Her hand flared up, bright and golden and warm, cooking through the meat again. In the meantime, with her spare hand, she sawed off more raw meat to give to Dread.

"How do you make dye?" she asked, pulling her hand away. Steam came billowing off the brown, seared flesh as she cut into it. "I mean-- I think I can figure it out, y'know? You need a lot of colours and stuff but, like, what colours would make fire?"

Fire-coloured seemed about right-- but what if she messed it all up by putting something else in it? Smoke was dark and dark things made everything dark-- but wasn't smoke technically a part of fire? Dread's markings didn't seem to be smoking, however, they just glittered.

Siren furrowed her small, pink eyebrows. "Where am I supposed to find the Thing, too?" She asked.

"I won't make them near your den," Siren promised, solemnly. "Just point where your den is, I guess? So that I don't make noise near your den."

She didn't really want in his den. She wouldn't want him in her den, at least-- not that he'd fit, not even his head. Somehow, she imagined she probably would look too out-of-place in his den as well, in some way.

She was still chewing when Dread turned around and vomited up fire. She blinked, pushed up, and wandered around to investigate what had just fallen out of his maw. "Um," she murmured-- not wholly understanding, but understanding just enough.

She pointed to the venison, most of it still on the bone. "You can have the rest of that," she said. "Wait here."

And off she ran.

Dread could likely still see the small child as she sprinted around Monoceros, searching high and low the general vicinity and avoiding the small twisters gathering. She wasn't particularly speedy, but she didn't take particularly long before she apparently found what she was looking for.

She ran back, and she presented it to Dread.

It was a fairly measly thing; but impressive and definitely shiny nonetheless. A small shard of bright orange sat in her hand, flickering in the dim light like a small swathe of flames. "Like this?" Siren asked, eyes flicking between the Orange and the fire.

Serendipity-- somehow --hardly noticed the massive dragon plodding behind her like a puppy. When she turned around to go back to Dread, she started, but held up the tiny gemstone all the same.

It hadn't occurred to her, incidentally, that they might have once belonged to someone else. For now, death was a bit of an out-there concept for the child. Which was likely for the best. Stave off the existential crises for as long as possible.

She tucked it into the pile with the rest of the Things she'd found today. "Like the birds have," she said, half to herself, at the mention of feathers. Then, she came back up to Dread and looked around the massive dragon for a moment.

"I dunno if I can reach?" She pointed out uncertainly-- but that much wouldn't stop her.

The little alien started trying to scramble up Dread, neck-first, in an attempt to reach his back. Her sheer determination and stubbornness to try to get on unaided might have been admirable to some, but ultimately weren't going to make up for a lack of upperbody strength.

She fell down two or three feet with a hollow thunk, a plume of dust rising from where her tail hit the cave floor. "Uh. I can't," she murmured, stumbling up and brushing dust off her scarf and tunic.

It was likely a lot to ask for Siren to have any logical reasoning. Not until she was a bit older, at least.

"Uh," she responded magnificently as she padded towards one of Dread's ramp-like wings instead, clambering up the thin membrane. It worked out better this time-- the climb wasn't as steep, likely because Dread had lowered himself down.

She stepped carefully across the fingerbones and up his arms, eventually, onto his back. She narrowed her eyes, brow furrowing, as her tiny hands grasped the spires on his back. "Uh," she repeated for a moment.

She shuffled, steadied herself, and spoke properly. "I think I'm ready? What's flying like?" She asked, half-concerned about the impending flight. Half-excited, as any little child would be-- but mostly concerned about falling off and to her death.