ORIGIN - • (curled aside) the embers

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Kazgut

I will come to be — I will submerge myself in the body of the earth, sink my teeth into its flesh; and rise in my own skin.

Former steps were retraced, leading way along a path that only by self was known. By own estimation, the black shuck had not been gone long; for he had not tread far before he had encountered the rockslide, the chrysalis, and who had been dwelling within. Although he had left the safety - the comfort - of her - to look for a meal, he was not coming back with empty paws. A small distance behind Kazgut, Fireheart surely followed - young, like they and of form familiar. Ahead, the grim kept a steadily trot, placing feet deliberately. Together they strode like this, cresting a bend studded with vibrant gems.

Following nose from there - (for she was not exactly where he had last seen her) - they passed between several featureless rockfaces until the wraith was spied. For within that illumination she stood out all the more vibrantly, fringed by halos of all multitudes of light; ethereal and mystic. Breath caught in throat. Warmth, that of familiarity - that of the simple, pure, justified happiness that came with seeing her again after they had been apart - and he gave a short - BARK! To grab her attention, the sound resounding low.

”Vyette-” Kazgut called her name, simply, plainly, but with great relief. For there was always relief in proximity. Eagerly, with ears pressed back and tail wagging low, he moved to greet her in the more familiar way, wishing to make sure that she was indeed unharmed, that all was well with his world.

Expectations were thus; that she would be excited at the prospect of a stranger - a friend. Often she seemed excited at greeting, at meeting, at being around the newness of others - something that was usually a matter lost on him.

Yet he had brought to her Fireheart all the same. Hoping, perhaps, to spark some happiness or content - wanting her always to be content in the choice that he had made.

Regardless, the sooty one had made the journey back with the void one.

(- and soon they were to stand before her.)

Judgement sought?

@Vyette , @Fireheart

He came along behind dutifully, yet with bright curiosity shining in his flame-colored eyes. And though he stayed behind Kazgut--following, attentive to the black pup's direction--his gaze still wandered. Everything was new to him; from the glitter and shine of the Spire's lights across this new rock, to the luminescent glow of the outcrops of crystal that studded the stone.

Fireheart was small, yet--still a newly-hatched pup--and his ashen fur only hinted at the snowy white that would come with age. His steps, on oversized paws, were bumbling but his stubby puppy tail wagged with joy at seeing the world around him.

But they weren't here for the stone; they were here for Vyette. And upon spotting her--as Kazgut barked, and spoke--Fireheart fell still. He peered at her: only the second other living being he had ever seen. She was paler than Kazgut, more like him--no, lighter-coated, even; white. She seemed daintier, more delicate, though hardly fragile. But where Kazgut was square and strong, even as a pup, Vyette seemed a graceful thing, almost poetic in her sleek lines and wavy coat. Fireheart could imagine, already, the truly elegant adult that she would one day become.

It was not that he was smitten, though; he admired her, for a moment, as he had admired Kazgut's void-black coat and moonglow eyes. They were, he noticed, opposites; black to white, white eyes to dark, and her stone atop her forehead, too, was pitch.

"Hello," he offered, and respectfulness, uncertainty, curiosity and good nature all blossomed from his heart, and into the movements of his body. A backward flick of his ears, a dip of his head, a peering at the pup, a wag of his tail--and then he drew himself up, a little. "My name is Fireheart."

He glanced to Kazgut, expecting the two to greet one another, perhaps; to catch up on however long they had spent apart. He wasn't sure how long that'd be, and nervousness--a consequence of inexperience--drove him into uncertain silence as he waited.

The wraith was drawn to Polaris. It spoke to her. Not in any true way other than in her heart. And in all honesty, she hadn’t ventured very far but she found herself always coming back here. And he, too. But it was not home. He was home.

She’d been napping, as was her usual pastime, but was awake and simply basking in the glow of the fungi as he returned and, in tow, a friend? Ears pricked and she stood, quick to recite his name in turn. “Kazgut,” she mused, stepping towards them.

Her tail wagged behind her, silken strings of hair flowing back, forth, back, forth. She stepped close to touch her nose to his and then her attention turned to the wolf, and her tail wagged faster still.

“Hello,” she echoed. Fascination drew her in, drew her towards him. His fur seemed so thick, more like Kazgut’s than her own, but the color was a subtle ashen antique color that she found pleasing. She mirrored his movements: his ears flicked back and hers did the same. He dipped his head, and she too dipped hers. Her tail continued to wag and she met his words with just one of her own: “Vyette.”

Dark eyes sought to hold his for a moment, gazing into the depths of the flames she saw there, entranced. And she stepped forward, towards him, gaze lowering to his gem. Nose lowered with it, moving instinctively to see if it radiated with heat as intense as its appearance.

Another canine, another being whose gem was identical to their eyes. Her tail continued to sway behind her, showing her approval.

@kazgut

Kazgut

I will come to be — I will submerge myself in the body of the earth, sink my teeth into its flesh; and rise in my own skin.

Fading into the background, the black shuck sat upon haunches some distance away. Mind which had thrummed with expectations fell silent, lunar sight following that of the wraith as the greetings transferred. Continued between the others. A hush fell upon own lips; a sort of quiet observation. Own tail brushed the ground every so often as an echo of their gestures, but otherwise Kazgut was still. Own ears remained forward upon head, listening, but keeping distance. For he did not wish to interfere.

Instinct dictated that he not crowd in on their meeting. Too many bodies pressed too close meant discomfort. Approval, however, seemed to have been acquired. This made Kazgut feel pride. The right choice had been made, then. Head raised, slightly, feeling that importance instilled. Tail made a sweep of the floor; showing those inner thoughts, but then was stilled again.

Quietly he watched as Vyette passed nose over the gem in the center of Fireheart’s chest, much as he had done. Knowing that the inner flame of it seemed entrancing. Perhaps, too, he felt the first bite of jealousy. For never before had he shared the attention of Vyette. But he had no name for such things, and for now ignored them.

The grim remained upon haunches, head raised, eyes forward, watching simply. After a moment, he stood and moved slightly away, content in the thought that nothing was going to transpire ill between them. Nothing that he would need to intervene in. Nose passed over several surfaces, sniffing.

Following invisible scent trails, he scoped out a small circle cast about their surroundings, preoccupying self. Mind told him that the greetings did not involve him, so he best preoccupy himself. He knew nothing of manners or rudeness.

So he circled them at a distance, here to there.

@Vyette , @Fireheart

Fireheart was as oblivious to social niceties as Kazgut, and as pleased to see the pair as they, apparently, were to see him. He stood quiet, tail wagging, as Vyette sniffed at him; his little ears perked toward her, curious as to what she was doing. His gemstone would prove warm, but only that faint warmth as with body heat--there was no fire to it.

The wolf pup glanced back to track, for a moment, the black fellow who had led him here. Kazgut seemed almost preoccupied, nosing around nearby, and Fireheart felt himself at first hesitant and then, after a moment's consideration, at his ease. If they felt no need to stand on ceremony, then neither did he--he took his cue from them, in his ignorance of such things.

"Vyette-... Sister," he said thoughtfully. For a moment longer he studied her, in a friendly manner, his tail absently still wagging. Do you--live here?" he asked, looking around. There was no sign of a dwelling place, or even of the signs of this area of the cave being lived-in; no bones of prey that he could see, no stray fur or scratchmarks, no personal belongings gathered here to rest. But Fireheart had little concept of such things, regardless. He didn't know what it was that he was looking for, only that he wasn't sure about their area. But his tone was not judgmental--only curious. "You're pretty," he added, matter-of-factly; "Both." It was said with a nod of approval, of admiration; they were beautiful beings, like statues, like paintings, shadow and light, ivory and coal, and he found himself rapt by the sight of them. "You look--matched. It is nice," he added; and perhaps, were he older, his words might have found some of the poetry of his thoughts.

@Vyette

Kazgut drew away and she felt some part of herself, too, depart. But her eyes remained on Fireheart, and she lifted her face to greet his once more. She took a small step back, proving them both space, and wondered if that would appease the shuck.

She nodded, following his gaze as it shifted around the room. “We do,” she breathed, “mostly.” They lived everywhere, but here most often. But it was not home, no. Home was a living, breathing creature, black as pitch with eyes and teeth of moonstone. And then — a compliment. And then — the first recognition of their completion, the embodiment of their fates: two halves of a whole.

“Thank you,” she smiled, and her gaze swept from Kazgut back to the wolf. “You are unique. You are beautiful.” Her sentences were odd, words short. The children each were young and vocabulary is a growing beast you must feed, but it cannot consume all at once.

She shifted again to look at Kazgut, then back to Fireheart. There was the burning, primal need Kazgut had to protect her and she felt something akin to it then. A maternal instinct, perhaps, to care for her family.

”Do you want for anything?”

@kazgut

Kazgut

I will come to be — I will submerge myself in the body of the earth, sink my teeth into its flesh; and rise in my own skin.

Words, concepts; abstractions - found the black shuck regardless of where about the surroundings he tread. For a border was marked by collections of rock and never once outside these bounds did he step. Indeed, their conversations were strange, jilted things - birthed from beings who had learned to speak but from some innate knowing rather than learning, than hearing - than being taught such things. Body language (a primal knowing, too) filled in the gaps were speaking could not. And they were familiars, and they were in good company.

The unknown emotion; the burning bite of jealousy, had faded some, enough that Kazgut felt confident enough in returning closer. Tail wagged, lazily, held aloft - agreeing with the sentiments spoken. Content in the observation that Vyette and himself were matched; for they had come into this world as two halves of destiny entwined (and were to spend their days so closely combined).

Sitting back on haunches at the side of Vyette, Kazgut yawned - black lips peeling back and jaw widening to reveal cavernous, carnivorous mouth and rows of moothstone teeth in maw up above. Ears flickered, nose ever aware of the scents that crossed their paths, as tail gave a sweep of the floor; feeling the need to make the family complete.

Bring them whole, the world seemed to demand. ”There are mice nearby,” Kazgut murmured, voice echoing low, adding itself once more to the conversation now that the pleasantries were aside.

”If you hunger, we hunt.” For in this, the concept of we was forming - (in immediacy).

@Fireheart

At the observation that Fireheart was both unique and "beautiful," (and that was the word he'd wanted; the word for the two of them; he added it into his mind) he swelled with pride. Him, beautiful? He had no reason to doubt Vyette's words; with youth came naievety and an obliviousness to the fact that some might compliment merely to be polite. Though even had he known, he'd likely not have attributed such things to the wraithlike white hound. Once he knew others, he might see her as standing apart, wraithlike and mysterious--but for now, Kazgut and Vyette were the only "normalcy" he knew. So now he incorporated that knowledge: he was beautiful, and that fed, just a little, a new arrogance born in the pup. Still, he amended his prior statement in a complement of his own. "That is what you are. Beautiful." He looked at them both, with this; for it wasn't just the form of one, but the poetry of both, that twinned into something magnificent.

"I do not want," he answered, thinking--but at Kazgut's mention of hunger, he found his stomach rumbling in response. A faint but sharp ache seemed to pierce his gut, and the pup turned to stare at his own abdomen for a brief and quizzical moment. Then he looked back to the black dog. "What are mice? I am hungry," he agreed. The words were swirling in his mind, now: hunger, hungry, food. They seemed, to him, to be quite closely-related to the churning in his stomach, although he couldn't as yet fully piece it all together.

And then, amending his prior statement, his flameglow eyes peering at Vyette thoughtfully: "I do want. I hunger." There. Yes; that felt right.

He wagged his tail at the two, waiting to be shown what "hunting" was. His expression remained both curious and friendly, his ears pricked up as he looked between Vyette and Kazgut beside her.

@Vyette

She, too, took pride in his words. As everything was complete, was right, when she was with Kazgut and yet the girl made a fierce discovery: Fireheart did not break the balance. He emboldened it. He made them stronger, she decided. She had thoughts of them aging together as she half-listened to the two of them.

Ah, but a question arose. ”Mice are… delicious”. She, too, felt hunger arise in her. They were growing still and could use nurishment. She smiled at Fireheart, then at Kazgut. Hungry, they would hunt. Vyette had done very little of the hunting: perhaps this could be valuable for both her and their wolf-brother.

”Kazgut, please” words were soft, airy. ”show us.” She did not command, did not assume. She asked. But she did not know of a world where he would deny. She watched him with quiet eyes, prepared to hunt with her pack.

@kaxgut

Kazgut

I will come to be — I will submerge myself in the body of the earth, sink my teeth into its flesh; and rise in my own skin.

Thoughts had turned to the many skittering of paws in the shadows and in the dark. For along the fringes were the light seemed to grow tired and to sleep, all manner of small creatures tread in the rocked seams. Often they would tempt nose, tempt eyes with subtle motions - a stray noise or squeak. Not long ago the black shuck had learned that they were also good to eat. Within round forms and beneath soft furs was the warmth of blood and meat. Tongue traced over hidden teeth at the thought; questions spoken of such. Hunger.

Kazgut often felt the pull of hunger. The call of the hunt. The need to seek out prey; written somewhere within own bones. Nothing could dissuade the thought once it had its hold. Lunar eyes, void of dark, looked to Fireheart. ”We hunt,” he affirmed, perhaps needlessly, but echoing what Vyette had told. For her word was his law, her requests his sign, and thus, he rose from haunches to lead them into the dark - together they would find.

”Mice are in the shadows,” Kazgut murmured, moving to lead the way. Stepping quiet, treading light, the grim slipped along the edges of the rocks and lowered self in almost a crouch as attempt was made to keep everything slow and even. Nose was set to its work - to try and find the source of the warmth; the source of the trails upon the airs - for there was mice, they were everywhere …

Eyes closed, concentrating on the shadows, on the light - or rather - the opposite of such. Thinking of night (for what was night to him but himself, but the shadows that stretched endlessly in own head?) and attempting to bring such into being. Thus, the surroundings dimmed, as though light itself was to abandon them. ”We are shadow …” His voice, so quiet.

For they would draw them out of hiding, together, and they would feast upon them - as pack mentality was already beginning to take over. As ears strained to ear the sounds of padding, little feet and twitching tails and uncertain bodies.

Where had the light went? Surely, surely, the prey felt safe … A mistake with three predators ready to catch them in teeth - as final cage.

@Fireheart

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