ORIGIN

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Warrior stood quiet at the edge of the Dunes. Out ahead of him they stretched vast and uncompromising; behind him lay the still-dangerous ravines of the Crucible. He had grown since last he'd come here--not a great deal, but enough, his legs longer, his body stronger.

Thus far he'd simply stayed out of trouble as best he could. He'd learned firsthand of the vultures and the Spire Spiders, and come a little too close to experiencing the danger of the scorpions. But the strange, vague life he'd spotted out in the Dunes still confused him.

They'd been beneath--many vertical; his magic had felt their sluggish life lurking still and silent beneath the sands. And he had never seen anything out there; he'd never gone out there himself, driven back the one time he'd come close by a fierce sandstorm. But curiosity still drew him back. He needed to know what lay out there, and whether it was dangerous, and so he came here from time to time and simply watched, hoping one of the beneath-the-sands creatures might reveal itself to him.

He could see them out there, even now--distant, scattered, but there. Doing what..? Hesitantly he began to step out onto the sands, alert to Hydra all around him.

The sands ahead remained, for now, silent--as did the skies above, and the Crucible behind.

He took a breath.

"HELLO?" he called out, and his ears flicked, listening to the way the desert seemed to swallow up his voice. Muffled. No echo. He hated drawing attention to himself out here; who knew what might hear him?

And nothing answered. Nothing came. The creatures beneath the sand did not move.

Warrior hesitated, and then stepped out further. He was still not close, and he feared drawing closer, but he really wanted to know what those things were. "Can you hear me?" he called out.

Nothing.

He stood silent, debating his next move. Hot wind tousled his mane, dry air searing at his nostrils. A few stray grains of sand had him squinting, blinking them away.

Magic, then..? he wondered. A gentle shake of the ground around one of the creatures? Perhaps he could wake it up.

He hoped that wasn't a terrible idea.

The sands shifted as Warrior's tremor ran through them. They shook, grains hopping along the surface, others falling beneath. And below, a sandworm found the shaking to be quite disorienting.

Was this prey?

Was this predator? Was this a larger sandworm-?

It erupted briefly--a scaled and bristled body of alien muscle and carapace--its pincers glinting in the bright light. It didn't slow, using its brief, whale-like breach to look around it, and then it crashed back below the surface and disappeared. Sand slipped into a divot in its wake.

It would probably be wise not to aggravate it further--but for now it appeared not to have focused on the horse in the distance at all.

Oh.

The seconds ticked past in silence, the foal frozen to the spot, his wide, dark eyes staring out at what he'd seen. Okay, so that was not a friendly being. At least, he didn't think so. He wasn't sure if it was a predator, but given all the pointy bits and spikes, and the brief glint of sharp--teeth?--at the front end, he thought it certainly looked dangerous.

Carefully, he began to back up, one hoof behind the other, hardly making a sound.

So that's what lurked out there, beneath the sands. At least now he knew that his ground-shaking magic would disturb them; perhaps it could provide a defense, should he ever need one. But it struck him at once that to deliberately aggravate these creatures would not be smart at all. He cast out his magic senses as he moved backwards and away, keeping track of the creatures--the one had settled in again, after some twisting and turning below the surface, and the others had not moved.

A minute or two passed and left Warrior standing again at the edge of the Crucible, staring out over the Dunes, quite visible and seemingly unhurt.

anyone is welcome to join

Perhaps it wasn't safe to wander Hydra without purpose, but Quentin had found himself recently cooped up with cabin fever as his shoulder healed. Besides, wouldn't walking help get its strength back? He didn't know much about wounds, he'd admit, but he wanted to get out of the little makeshift den he and Mirage had been moving into, and so with a brief conversation with her he'd headed out into the Crucible proper.

His ears caught wind of a voice- not Mirage's, no, but in the opposite direction. In the dunes? It seemed like it- or maybe they were just in that direction.

After a bit of walking, the fox realized, no, they probably were in the dunes. Was this bound to be another situation like Mira's? He barely had enough room for the two of them so far. As he rounded the corner though, the other Gembound came into view, and. Well. No, he wasn't going to fit someone of that size in a den of his.

They looked fine though? Who were they calling for? His fur went on edge as a sand worm breached in front of them, all thousand spines glittering in the sands. A nervous gulp ran down Quentin's throat.

He waited a moment, watching as the horse stepped back into the cliffs. "Uh- hey, are you okay?" He spoke gently after some time, trying not to startle the person in front of him. His own paws were carefully quiet on the sandy rock below as he came closer. "It's not safe out there." Or, anywhere in here, really. "Are you new?" He stopped a short ways behind the horse, cautious of an attack that could come.

@Warrior

Warrior blinked and looked toward the voice. It took him a moment to spot its owner--lower-down than he'd expected, and blending in remarkably well with the sands. It looked a little battered, as he did, but then the world (or Hydra, at the very least) was certainly one to leave you with scars.

Curiosity and friendliness rose up in him at once--it was lonely out here, and friends were always welcome. But with it came a certain caution. Those he'd met tended to wander off, or be strange, or even start killing small mice.

That had been unpleasant.

But this thing kind of looked like a mouse, and before a few seconds had passed, Warrior was ambling over, his ears flicking idly about in a friendly manner, his head lowering, wide nostrils blowing a warm breath of greeting as he took in Quentin's faint scent. "I'm all right," he answered, and paused a couple yards off. He realized with a start how tiny the creature was, and he didn't want to frighten it away. "And--I was just learning that," he added, lifting his head up to gaze out at the sands. There was humor in his tone.

He looked back to Quentin. "My name is Warrior." He was proud of that, apparently, if the toss of his short colt mane were any indication. But the fox's question had him puzzled, and he paused for a moment to consider. "New-... I don't know. I don't think so? Maybe," he conceded. "I have been out here for... Forty days? Or fifty? That is when I came out of my bubble," he added. He hadn't kept strict track of how many hot dawns and red sun-... orb-sets he'd survived, but it had been somewhere in there, he thought.

"I was watching them--there are a lot of them under the sand. I wasn't sure what they were. -I'm not sure I'm glad to know," he added. "Who are you? Do you live here--are you new?" he asked, curiously, eyeing Quentin over. And then--the worry flickering through him--he added, "Do you eat grass, or baby mice?"

Because apparently, those were the only two options.

@Quentin

Quentin let out a relieved sigh when the horse said he was alright and sniffed at him. A smile, though, graced his lips at Warrior's words. They didn't seem too set back by the danger of their lives, at least with the tone and pride at his name. This was nice! Just to be around someone else- his tail drifted behind him in a small wag.

He gave pause in turn at the time-frame given. Shoot, he didn't know how ling he'd been awake. "I think that's not very new? You've been here about the same time as my friend, and I don't consider her new." His paw drifted him to his snout in thought as he sat. They were probably safe, after all.

His gaze settled on the sands outside the Crucible as Warrior spoke on the beasts that lived in them. He was about to add his own opinion when Warrior gave him some questions of his own- A lot of them, backed with curiosity that Quentin admired. "Quentin, yes, and no," he gave his responses to each of the first three, turning his head to the Crucible's walls and pointing in the vague direction of his den. "I live that way for now, with my friend Mirage."

The last one, though, caused a ripple of briefly furrowed brows and a small, confused laugh. "Um, not baby mice, but I eat meat? I didn't even know you could eat grass." He shook his head before gazing up to Warrior with his own flavor of curiosity. "Do you eat grass? And- Do you have to eat a lot? Because you're so big? ... Does it taste good?" His head tilted this way and that as he asked each question.

@Warrior

Warrior lifted his head, peering in the direction that Quentin indicated.

"Oh, I stay in there too. There's spiders and scorpions, and angry birds, but the birds are everywhere and it's easier to hide. Plus there's shade and water and more grass. But I stay that way," he added, nodding toward a slightly different canyon.

Meat. Is that--living things? Flesh? Warrior considered, and decided that it was; this bothered him, a little, but Quentin's questions distracted him from this. That, and the fox's habit of tilting his head back and forth with each question; this was rather endearing, with a harmlessness about it, rather than anything predatory or unseemly. "I eat grass," he confirmed. "And most other green stuff. Some's better than others," he admitted. "There's a lot of soft plants around the water, and they taste really good. A lot of the bushes and grasses are really dry or sharp, and some have thorns. But it's food," and here he shrugged, as best a horse could do. "I eat all day, off and on. Who's Mirage?" he then asked, his own head tilting a little to one side.

He spent a moment looking out over the sands, casting out his magic in a sort of indifferent manner, checking to be sure that nothing was sneaking up on them. It all seemed clear enough, and he looked back to Quentin.

"Um... I don't suppose you've met someone named Oleander? We were friends, we hatched together, but I lost her," he lamented.

@Quentin

Quentin nodded along as the predators along the cliffs were mentioned. He'd witnessed his fair share of them, himself. ... Maybe more than a fair share, but one nonetheless. He twisted his body the other way as Warrior nodded to see the canyon he'd pointed out. It was one Quentin probably hadn't mentally mapped out yet- he mostly stuck to his own for now.

Grass, then? ... Well, he had seen mice eating at plants, so, could believe it. His ears planed out to either side of his head as he glanced up to the sealed off sky in thought. Warrior'd need a tough gut to eat that grass, probably. Some innate sense told Quentin that he'd get sick from it.

Maybe he should try it? A minute shrug of his own rolled across his lithe shoulders as he cast his gaze back up to Warrior. "Um- She's an owl!" Or, at least he was told? "She's a bird, but she's small, like me. She also eats meat. Not... Not meat like us, though! Just mice and stuff, we eat the same kind of things." His paw moved forward as he spoke, cautious of his wording. Meat, he'd admit, was a weird thing to eat, but it made sense. He was just eating roundabout grass, right? However- "We don't really eat all day. Maybe you need a lot more grass than animal to feed you. Or maybe you're just growing?"

There was no way Warrior was still growing, but if he was young... Maybe? Still. His paws tightened closer to himself as an Oleander was mentioned, his head shaking sadly. "Ah- no, not if she doesn't look like anything in here already. I'm sorry. This place is.. It's big, but really empty. Have you looked in-" He held up a claw to point to the Crucible but stopped himself. Oh, of course he checked it, he lived in it. "Maybe she's hiding?" Instead of pointing back behind him, he gestured to the dunes to where he vaguely knew the hole in the wall was. "There's a cave that way, but I.. Get really bad feelings from it. Maybe she went into it to get away from the predators."

He shuddered. "I don't think I want to know what's out there, though. It.. It smells like death, there." His jaw set to the side for a second as his nose scrunched. It... Didn't seem dangerous? The vultures would probably nest there, though- maybe that's where they came from. If this Oleander left this way, then, good luck to her.

@Warrior

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