ORIGIN - life's a trial

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The Mirage in the desert remained quite still until the Sand Worm's heartbeat was too far away to sense. She had started to pick up glimpses of other small, distant heartbeats, but she was not prepared to go investigate any of them. At some point, she stopped listening, closing her eyes and resting, the heat of the bright Hydra lights sweltering.

Then, something spoke to the fledgling owl.

Blinking, and raising her tiny head, her golden eyes peered through a view of cloudy orange to see a strange, small creature with a tiny mouth (she was very relieved) and huge, massive ears. "... I'm... alive," the little bird chirped, shuffling up from the sand. By one of her wings, most of her plumage had been torn away, leaving a bloodied patch clotted with sand and grit. Her limb hung limply at its side, though she flapped her opposite, still fluffy wing for balance as she pushed herself up on her stilt-like legs.

"... Big mouth," she warned quietly, glancing around the blood soaked sand that surrounded her. "Crushed... It gone now." Though, now that Mirage had been coaxed out of her hiding place, she crept forward, wincing at the ache that took up a good chunk of her small form. Even taking a tiny step made pain shoot down her one leg, but she pushed forward in spite of it.

She made her way to a rather large spray of dried, brown ichor, and began to poke at the sand hopefully. It took a bit of digging, but she found a small-- smaller than even herself-- piece of the Sand Worm that had been shredded off by the larger predator in their confrontation. Blinking, she turned her head ninety degrees and peered back at the stranger.

"... share?" She offered, if only to convince the other creature not to eat her. For some reason, it seemed like a likely possibility.
@Quentin

Q U E N T I N
we'll become silhouettes
when our bodies finally go

Alive. Good. That was the first thing he need to know, if he didn't glean that from disguised eyes flickering open to take a glimpse of the outside world. His head twisted and turned this way and that as he paced in place. This thing's alive... And it spoke? Careful to give her space, Quentin lowered down his head and took a step back, eyes wide as he looked over her. Was she supposed to look like that? No- that... That was where the blood way coming from. Nose twitching with anxiety, Quentin nearly reached forward to help, yet the overwhelming scream of stranger danger kept him from clearing off the injured body part.

At the mention of 'big mouth', Quentin nodded and glanced to the bloodied sand along with her, a tremble running down his tiny form. He'd had encounters with them- nasty, nasty encounters, ones he was glad to survive, enough to live through to be surprised that a creature as young as this (if he had his assumptions correct) could have lived through. Well, they didn't live all the way through, his mind provided as he glanced over her wing, watching as she took movement.

Seeing her stumble shot an emotional pain through his heart. "Careful-" his mouth worked before his mind, his body darting forward to stand beside this creature as they marched onward. He stopped before the blood, though- no, even that was too much for him.

"What you do-" he stopped the broken sentence in its tracks as she turned her head way too unnaturally. A yelp caught in his throat before the offer was given. Share... Dark eyes wandered over the piece, his mouth already salivating at the thought of a free meal. "Is... Safe? Big thing hurt, food might hurt..." The words carried a whine under them, Quentin's body lowering itself to the sand while his thick tail displaced it in its slow wagging behind him. Sure, he'd hunted his fair share of food, eaten enough scrap, but... Never one of these. He hadn't seen a dead one, either, so- how did he know that really was real? He hadn't had any contact with the creature- what if the heat was finally getting to him after all this time? Was it just a ghost trying to get him to join it?

Still, the offer stood, Quentin dragging his body closer to sniff at the revealed piece. Yeah, it smelt real, but his worries still held over the perceived safety of such a meat.

@Mirage

The owl stared with her large, saucer eyes at the big-eared creature, eventually giving a slow blink behind her amber gem. "No mouth," she answered simply. The mouth was the dangerous part-- this was just a scrap, separate from the mouth. "Can't bite." That was the logic that the tiny bird had, ignorant of venomous or poisonous things. This was food, and the first food she had ever encountered.

And after everything that had happened to her, she just wanted to scarf all of it down. She pecked at the sand-coated flesh, having to raise one of her small talons and stomp down on it to get enough leverage to pull apart the tough, sun-baked meat. Even then, she was straining herself quite a bit, and it was painful enough that after just getting a couple of mouthfuls, she plopped down in the sand.

"Hurt," she chirped, twisting her head around to prod her beak at the nasty gash on her side. "Tired..." She didn't want to give up, but she looked toward the strange furry creature. Could she survive like this? What if the Sand Worm came back?

She fixed her gaze on the stranger, hopeful that since she had offered to give some of the meat to them, they would help her in return. "... Share," she insisted, "Share each other."
@Quentin

Q U E N T I N
we'll become silhouettes
when our bodies finally go

Hm.. "You right," he conceded, slinking closer before practically brushing his fur against her feathers. It was obvious she was hurting, though- even to an outside view, to one who'd been so alone, Quentin knew what it was like to hurt, to have to power through. She wasn't alone; she didn't have to power through. He found his tail flickering behind him, his eyes constantly flickering between owlet and morsel.

She was hurt. Inching forward ever so slightly, pulling back a little less each time, Quentin's head drew closer to her injuries that were scraped with blood. "You very hurt," he pointed out. He wasn't entirely sure how to help her at the point- the sand looked like it hurt, but everything looked like it hurt. Hurt beings needed more to heal- turning his attention to the meat, Quentin peeled back to nudge the piece broken off towards him towards her. "Need food- make less hurt later. Already ate." Dark eyes roamed over the meat- yes, he was salivating, obviously tempted by it, but... This, this baby needed it more than him.

If he could bring her to safety-- He could bring her back to his den? Yes, yes! His tail lifted and nearly started to wag at the inner monologue taking place, calculating what he'd need to do. They weren't far- he had his stream outside his abode, and plenty of food in the form of the mice about; he'd just have to teach her how to hunt them. With her injuries, though, he may have to take care of her; a much needed change from his current life, at least! "You eat now. Then I take to home, yes?" He could barely contain his excitement; his own friend, someone who would actually talk back! He didn't give mind to how he'd get her back- it wasn't like he was going to make her walk, but the thought process was overloaded by the sheer puppy-dog feelings he had for her. His nerves got to him and drove him to pace around her. Tail wagging, his squeaky voice piped up, cheerful despite everything that had just occurred. "Me Quentin! You heal, me make nice! Share home! Share, yes!"

She liked that word. It was good to do things for each other- of course, it was obvious he should let her hear it some more.

@Mirage

The baby did not protest in the slightest when her new companion insisted that he had eaten already, and that she needed to eat and keep her strength up. She ravenously swallowed the scrap he tore off whole, and then pecked at the remained as much as she could without eating a whole load of sand at the same time.

"You Quentin?" She echoed, turning her head and trying to follow him as he bounced around her. Her head was quite flexible, pivoting with ease to keep the fennec fox in cider-splashed view. "Quentin..." It was a much bigger, more complicated word and concept for her, but she absorbed it eagerly. He was a Quentin.

So... What was she? She hadn't decided yet. That, and her new friend distracted her immediately with a new thought. Share home. She didn't know what a home was, but he seemed so happy and excited about it, she couldn't help but be excited too! She puffed up her feathers, a hiccup in her throat. "I share, we share!" She agreed wholeheartedly.

"I come share with you," she strung together her largest sentence yet, wobbling up on to her feet and making a tiny hop toward her new friend. Her Quentin! "Home! We go home... I heal. Yes." It was such a good idea. As long as no more of the massive Sand Worms showed up...

Her heart fluttered, and nervously, she tried to feel for heartbeats that weren't her own-- or Quentin's, if course. If there was danger, she would have to warn him right away so they could hide.
@Quentin

Q U E N T I N
we'll become silhouettes
when our bodies finally go

His ministrations paused as the owl parroted his name back to him, his mouth propping open in a grin with his tail raising. "Yes! Quentin!" Oh, he was proud of her! She was doing so good! "Yes, yes, we share!" He nodded, eyebrows drawing together with a stern 'harumph', chest puffing out.

Though, as she started walking again, a worried look came over his face. "Wait- you fly? Or- me carry?" With his stilted words, he nosed at her good wing, tail wagging low to the ground. "You big though, but... Could try?" His head tilted this way and that. This was a conundrum- she couldn't walk all the way back to his home in the canyons, could she?

But... She had to go home to heal. This wasn't a safe home. Out in the open, out with the worms- no, this was an awful place to make her home. Even if she had the weird shards about her- was she attached to them?

"Wait wait!" His voice squeaked out as he hopped closer to one of the larger shards, dark blood dried from the lights of the cave with part of it submerged. "I carry you with this!" It could be big enough- struggling, he wrapped his jaw about it and tugged it out of the sand, a grumble rising in his throat before he managed to jerk it free. He panted out a soft "There!" as he stepped back, sitting down for a moment. How was he going to do this? Did she even want to be carried?

Stumped, he looked back towards his friend, ears lowering out to his sides. "It not long way, but you hurt, not heal, from walk," he explained his mindset, a paw resting on the makeshift sled. "With this, no walk. We fall down hill, I pull up. Easy. And very easy once in wall place."

In truth, he didn't know if this would really work, but it'd be worth the try.

@Mirage

The little owlet fluffed up with pride as Quentin praised her, nodding enthusiastically. She felt like she might just fall over from how hard she was wagging her head up and down, but she stilled as her new companion suggested that she try flying. She vaguely understood the concept, something deep in her dna that told her what flying was. The baby bird raised one wing, and then winced as she tried to raise the other... Her feathers were still entirely fluff, but even if they were proper adult feathers, she could hardly move her one wing. "No fly... Maybe I fly, someday?" She suggested, the idea flickering in her mind's eye.

She carefully made her way over to the sled-like piece of her chrysalis. "Okay," she agreed, "I can walk... A little bit. If you start tired... Maybe I walk up, then fall down with this?" She glanced up the sand dunes, thinking to herself that it would take a lot of effort for Quentin to push her up a big, hard hill. It would be a lot easier for her to just slide down the slopes, though, wouldn't it?

If it wasn't far, then it would be alright for him to pull her, but she didn't know how long it would be. She carefully eased herself on to the mostly flat, slightly curved piece of stone, settling down on it where she felt safe and balanced. Her magic pulsed softly across her vision. "Okay! Ready!" She declared, feeling a touch more confident now that she could feel Quentin's heartbeat along with her own. If there was any danger, she'd sense it a mile off, and they could find a way to hide or... Or run.

@Quentin

Q U E N T I N
we'll become silhouettes
when our bodies finally go

A soft 'hm' emanated from Quentin as he thought over the prospect of flying. She had the sort of downy the vultures had about their bodies, but she was missing the skin they had on their own wings. Maybe she just didn't know yet? "Someday, yes! Wing mean fly." He pointed a nose towards the raised wing, looking over the injury on her other.

No matter. Nose trembling as he sniffed at the chrysalis piece, Quentin's paw stayed in place as she approached. "Hmm.." He wasn't sure about her walking too far, but it would be faster. But... She did get hurt a bit. "I push up, both fall down? Less walk that way, less big snake," he reasoned, nodding to himself.

He knew it wouldn't be too far- his footprints he'd left were still visible against the desert, idle winds having nearly covered them up, if they were worried about getting lost. They should both fit on the crystal piece on the way down. As for distance, it was.. What, for him, about fifteen minutes of walking? If he knew what a minute was, at least. Then they'd have to get to his den; the pushing should be easier then with the smoother rocky ground.

First, though, Quentin kept the sled stable as she mounted it, ears perking forward and full interest drawn to her to make sure it didn't tip over this way or that. It seemed fine- it should hold, and it curved enough for him to dip his snout under to push. It might get sore over a while but they just had to have hope!

He gave a nod when her declaration was proclaimed. Right; "Ready too- Ohwaitwait!" He glanced back towards the remains that has splattered off the worm, tail held high. They could dig up some of the meat and carry it- she ate it too, so, they could have food for later! And she wasn't sick, it seemed? But- no, they had to go to safety before another ended up popping out. "Nevermind," he squeaked out, pushing aside the sand below the sled with his muzzle to prop his head against a flat piece of edge.

He didn't know if it'd actually work. It should, but, what if she tipped out? He could only offer a "hold on" as a warning before pushing back with his hind legs, powering forward to start their journey ahead. It was tough to say the least. Unprepared for the weight (and, perhaps, her movement), his paws slipped in the slick sand before he huffed, backing off to get a better grip and plodding forward.

They had begun to ascend. It was working! It was actually working! Unwittingly, Quentin's tail wagged out behind him as he trudged on to the crest of the dune, the sled already threatening to tip over. "Ok! Now... I sit, and we do again! You ready?" He gave pause as he placed his forepaws on the shard. He looked about ready to hop up, but he wasn't about to do anything without her being prepared.

This might take a while, but it'd be a lot better for her in the long run. Besides, the worms really listened for walking in his mind's eye, at least- nothing like this straightforward slipping. Perhaps they'd mistake them for sand falling! Wait- sand didn't fall up. Well, they were at least halfway safer.

@Mirage

Less walk, less snake. That made sense; they heard walking and moving sands probably like she heard heartbeats. The reasoning stuck in her head, and made her excited for the notion of flying-- one day, she wouldn't shift the sands at all, would she?

She was smaller than Quentin now, but maybe one day, she would be really big, and she could carry Quentin on her back. The thought made her feel happy, and warm, and she tucked it close; she nearly shared it, but she'd much rather surprise her new friend with it once she suddenly was bigger.

Quentin soon enough pushed the amber sled riding owlet to the top of the dune, and from her new position she could see how far the desert really stretched. "Wow," she chirped. It was so huge! Bigger than a hundred sand worms! She couldn't possibly imagine what laid beyond all of the sand. Maybe this was everything in the whole wide world... But then, where was home? She turned her head, spotting some distant, dark shape that rose out of the sand, but it was hard to make anything out with the sheet of amber fuzzing her vision.

"Ready!" She squeaked in reply, nearly vibrating with excitement to experience her first of many slides down the sand dunes, back to the place Quentin called Home.

;; Mirage exit!
@Quentin

Q U E N T I N
we'll become silhouettes
when our bodies finally go

At his friend's simple yet elegant wow, Quentin let out a happy, short bark, tail wagging behind him. As dangerous as this place was, it sure could be pretty! Though, she was soon ready, and so he needed to be as well. "Alright, hold on," came a quiet yip as Quentin kept himself propped up on the sled. Right, he just needed to finagle himself on. It took a little squirming, but soon he managed to find enough purchase on the material, keeping just one leg off to kick.

"Here we go!" Tensing, Quentin kicked off to slide with his new friend. Sure, it was a survival idea, but... With the wind rushing by his ears and sand rattling the sled below them, it was fun! Carefully, his paws gripped at the sides, his heat beating in his chest as it came to a slow much quicker than expected.

Now, just to do that... A million more times. At least he could share the trip with a new friend!

Exit Quentin

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