ORIGIN

The young fox had already been walking around for a few days, but in that time he'd discovered that this place that he was in, well, it was very wet. A little too wet. He hated the feeling of moisture on his paw pads or soaking into his fluffy fur. Already, the thin layer of fur he'd been hatched with was fluffing out, protecting him from the chill of this particular cave, but it made everything so much worse when he accidently activated his magic or got a splash from something. It got heavy and soaked and he hated it.

Not his fur, the water.

The first time he'd accidentally cast a spell had been quite a shock. He'd stepped on a particularly sharp stone and had been surprised enough to flinch. It came with a strange, itchy feeling from his forehead and the next second, his entire body was doused in water. He'd had no idea how it'd happened and had squealed, racing away from that spot, forgetting that he was in the middle of hunting, and had spent the rest of the day wet, cold, hungry, and thoroughly miserable.

At least here, it was a little more dry. There weren't any waterfalls and there were fewer rocks to step on. Maybe he'd find a better place to stay now. A better place to sleep, too.

But first, the growling in his stomach reminded him that he hadn't eaten yet today. This area, with all of its greenery, seemed like the best place to find something to hunt. He crouched down and began to gently sniff at the air. There was certainly something nearby, so he followed the scent. It was getting stronger by the second and he recognized it, now, as a mouse. Pretty common, not too tasty, but it would do. He paused and continued to scan the scent until he pinpointed its exact location. Not too far in front of him.

A few more steps and he pounced. The mouse didn't know he was there until he was on top of it and biting down. It wasn't as massive as the cave rats he'd run into before, but it was enough for the young pup to fill up on. He settled himself down and began to feast, trying to ignore the dampness of the grass under his belly.

It wasn't a very sudden approach - the pup was stomping around loud enough for the fox to hear her from a good distance away. His eyes moved up from his food and watched her approach with a neutral expression. He didn't really mind company, he just wasn't really expecting. Thankfully, it wasn't too much of a shock or a surprise. So he continued to munch on the half-eaten body of the mouse.

The amount of energy and enthusiasm radiating from the pup threw him a little bit off guard and he paused, staring up at her with widened eyes. She was very jumpy. And loud. It was a little surprising, since most of the creatures he'd encountered in the last few days had been totally quiet. Probably because they were prey or didn't even know he was there, but still, it was a little bit of a wake-up call.

He lifted his head, light pink tongue flicking out to lick the traces of blood off his jaws (getting his muzzle uncomfortably wet in the process). "Hi," he barked back, almost unconsciously. He paused, almost surprised at himself for being able to speak so suddenly. "Zaa-ven-loor-uh," he parroted, carefully. That was a name, a jumble of words used to refer to someone. That was her name. "Nice name," he added on, kindly.

Almost self consciously, he raised a paw to rub at the gem on his forehead. "Th-thank you." If a fox could blush, his fur would be turning a bright pink color at the moment. "I didn't know they were special at all. But what's ice? I don't know what that is." Of course, he had avoided anything that looked remotely wet and so hadn't yet experienced the iciest parts of Pisces just yet. "I'm, uh...I don't have a name yet. How did you get yours? It's nice," he added on. "And, uh, I think I'm a fox..." It was the combination of sounds that came out of his mouth first, so he assumed that that was correct. He was winging this whole speaking thing.

He tilted his head a little confused, tail flicking behind him curiously. The mouse between his paws was forgotten, for now. "Uh, magic? Don't know. What's that?"

The fox listened carefully, his paw slowly setting back on the ground. His muzzle crinkled a bit as what the wolf was saying sunk in. "Oh. Okay. If everyone has one, it isn't that special, then. That's fine." And, really, it was totally fine. He didn't particularly care if he was special or not, it was just nice to hear that someone really liked the weird little itchy thing on his head.

Zavenlora's explanation about magic intrigued him, however. He leaned in, eyes going wide with wonder. "Oh, that's cool! So, if you touched a rock, you could see who walked on it before or something that happened there in the past. That's pretty neat." But if she was being honest, then he, somehow, had a power of his own. Magic. It would be nice to touch something and be able to see the past, but that hadn't really happened and he wondered how something like that would even work.

But, then again, he had been doing something strange. His eyes narrowed and he wondered. "Uh, well, sometimes I get wet all of a sudden. Not sure how it happens, but one minute I'm fine and the next I'm soaked and thirsty." He shivered. "Don't really like getting wet." He suddenly became very very aware of how damp the grass was under him and he trembled again. Ugh, why couldn't he ever find a nice, dry place to hang out?

He barked out a small laugh at the wolf's question. "Of course I know what water is. Just haven't seen ice. Wouldn't really care to see any, though." It was kind of weird that water could be a solid. But then, maybe, it wouldn't soak into his fur. Maybe he wouldn't mind it after all.

His head tilted a little bit as he considered. Weird how some people just knew their names while others didn't. He wondered how many others like him and Zavenlora there were in the caves. "Gembounds", she called them. And how many of them faced this crisis of naming? He glanced over at himself, at the pristine white fur (a spark of pride raced through him at the sight of his own beauty) and bounced a number of words through his head. There were a few he liked, and he was a silent for a little while, trying to decide. He seemed perfectly content, however, taking his time, and eventually settled on one that sounded right. "Shirohi." It was a proud announcement and he seemed to sit a little taller. "That's my name."

Zavenlora saying his name made him all the more confident that it was the right one for him. His jaws cracked open and his tongue flicked out again, licking over lips. "Yeah, that sounds good. But you can call me Shiro. I think it'd be nice to have friends call me that." The word "friends" rolled off his tongue so easily. He'd never had a friend before. It was kind of nice knowing that he did now.

But his good mood seemed to be stricken away almost immediately. He'd been mellow and fairly neutral this whole time and this was the first time that an actual emotion crossed over his face. "Awwww, really? Why did I have to get water magic?" He pouted, looking thoroughly miserable at this revelation. "I hate getting wet. Water magic sounds stupid." It was childish and immature, but he didn't care. This wasn't fair! Why couldn't he have a cool thing like arcane magic or maybe making things warm instead of cold and wet?

He seemed to be pretty beat down, now, and, at first, didn't respond to the wolf's next query. Instead, he muttered to himself about how it was all "stupid" and "unfair" until he realized that Zavenlora had, in fact, asked him something. He blinked and turned to look at her again. "Uh, a forest? What's that? What's a Kingdom?" Was it some kind of gathering, with lots of other Gembounds gathered around? Since she was saying some lived "alone" and others "in groups". The thought of meeting others and making friends was certainly appealing, but it also sounded like a lot of work. "Sounds exhausting," he added, not really to anyone in particular.

Unfortunately, Zavenlora's words only made Shiro feel worse about his magic. "Why would I want to do any of that? I don't like getting wet." And why on earth would he want to breathe underwater when he could walk around perfectly find above it? Why would he subject himself to something like that?

His tail curled behind him as he continued to pout about his bad luck. "Pfft, whatever. Magic sucks, anyways." He let his head crash to the ground, but apparently he had forgotten that there was still a half-eaten mouse carcass in between his paws. One of the ribs poked at the underside of his chin and he yelped, flinching back, and, at the same time, water suddenly poured out of his skin, drenching his whole body.

He jumped to his feet, shivering at the cold that was suddenly seeping into his skin, hating the heavy feeling of waterlogged fur. He panicked for a second, before he realized what had happened. This was his "magic". "Shit," he snapped. "See? I don't even mean to do it!" He tried to shake himself out, scattering water all over the place (and probably over Zavenlora as well), but it didn't get nearly enough off.

He slumped back to the ground, feeling thoroughly miserable, his chin resting on the cold stone. He tried to remember what Zavenlora had said to him, and it took a few minutes of silence for him to remember more then just the word "rivers". "The cave sounds...nice, except for the rivers part. Don't care for getting wet." He felt like he was repeating himself at this point. "Positions? Uh, I don't really care about any of that. It sounds very exhausting. Maybe...I'll just...mmmm..." He considered for a little while, dying away into silence as he pondered what he could do. He was starting to shiver now from the cold and that was making him even more upset. "Is it warm in Eridanus? Or dry?"