ORIGIN

"Hello?" The call was distant, through the mist, and the figure approaching wasn't all that large--and black; a little hard to see. It might have almost been eerie. The squelching as he struggled very mundanely through the mud, however, was not. "Sorry, um--who's that?"

He couldn't see, yet, squinting through the fog, who the other Gembound was--it seemed to be wandering off from the pile, though, so it was a good bet that it was one of the Children of Rot. And the Children of Rot were who he was here to see.

Phlegethon was right behind him--and he needed to hear this too--but it shouldn't, Oliver reasoned, just be him.

Dragon lifted up a little from where he'd slowly drifted in, his tail sweeps so slight as to leave no ripples; he looked motionless. In fact, he looked like nothing: black beneath the black, coming in so gradually that he'd not disturbed the surface. But the movement at the pile had him lifting up, and the call in the mist piqued his interest.

Eyes lifted to just barely above the waterline, their dark irises glinting where they seemed to be almost flecked with gold. He cast out his magic, as an idle habit--one never knew when there were spies about--but it was returned a little weak. He could see a few hundred yards, the faintly pulsing flickers of red in the dark, and it was difficult to distinguish near from far. But he could tell, at least, that there were two creatures here, quite close--and a fish rather near to his left front leg.

He grunted, and drifted nearer to shore to listen.

Oliver squelched and staggered his way through the deeper mud near the Heart, his friendly expression kind. He came right up to Serek, lowering his voice a little.

"Hi," he offered, and despite his quiet words, he was bright and friendly. This new stranger looked interesting: red and furry, alert, somehow warm. Maybe it was just the color, but Serek had something about him that was more vibrant than the swamp around him. Oliver offered an expression not unlike a smile: the closest a bird-dog could come to one. "My name's Oliver. I was born here, my mom's a Child of Rot," he offered. "I've been living in other caves doing plant stuff." With this professional assessment of his tasks, he sat himself in the mud, settling in.

"Do you know if Dragon's here? Or, um. Eve? That's my mom," he added, happily.

Dragon listened, the words faint, distant, but most of them he caught. His tail flexed a little faster. He debated, briefly, whether to keep his senses open for heartbeats or make a flaring, wings-spread magical entrance, or something along those lines--he couldn't do both at once. But he'd seen nothing close by, even, that wasn't Children of Rot, and he could check again in a moment.

He'd always been the playful sort, regardless. The mischievous sort. Making a dramatic entry could be fun.

Dragon debated a moment how best to make this all about him (just for fun, really, because everything should be enjoyable or what was life for?). He focused, for a moment, and then turned, his rudder-like tail propelling and guiding his movement. A shimmering magic seemed to erase even the image of his eyes; he was already the color, shape and texture to blend quite well into Cetus but now he seemed almost invisible. Bar a brief curl here and there of black, wet alligator skin as the magic seemed to falter, he had vanished.

There was a quiet squish in the mud close by Oliver and company, and then a short splash, and then--were they paying attention--a few depressions in the mud nearby that seemed to come from nowhere. Dragon, his form shifting appearance to match the ground beneath, grinned as he let the spell go--and simply seemed to appear there among them. Undoubtedly they'd hear him coming, even see the water-filled footprints as he hauled himself on shore, but it was still cool. At least, Dragon thought so.

"Right here, in fact. Oliver," he dipped his head in greeting. "Serek, Phlegethon. You are both well?" There was a father's proud concern in it, as if if either of them had said 'no,' he'd have threatened to immediately beat up the source of their misfortune.

Oliver flinched, spinning a little to face Dragon's approach, then blinked and flicked his ears forward again.

"Oh. Hi," he greeted--and then, "Sorry, you scared me." He then offered Serek a bright, cheerful look. "I'd like to. I'm not sure if flowers and stuff'd live long here but I can find out? Oh, but. Right." Oliver remembered that he was here for a reason, and cleared his throat, sitting in the mud.

"So, us in Eridanus--Astraea came up to us. The Master, Astraea," he clarified. In case that could be misunderstood. "He told us that there was someone named Reji that we were meant to kill. And I guess she's hiding here and there's others with her and they say they just wanna survive. But there's kinda a bad smell around where they are and Astraea said she's got something to do with some kind of fungus that takes control of your mind and makes you serve it until you're just starving to death. So like, I can't uhh. See? Fungus, with magic or anything so I can't check--I can see plants but not mushrooms. So I was gonna look for someone who could check 'cause I think Astraea'd just kill them and I know you guys don't want Masters around here and I'd rather help them? If we can." Oliver paused, at last, for a breath.

Then continued.

"Anyway, I was gonna say please be careful around them. If it can infect others, it might get you, too. And ask if you had anyone who can sense fungus, otherwise I'll go try and find somebody?"

He peered at Dragon, then Serek, looking between them worriedly, hoping there wasn't anything he didn't know. Hoping they weren't also infected, or that they knew--he didn't want to be a threat to anyone, and then get killed. "If that's okay?" he added, tentatively.

Dragon did not respond right away. As Oliver spoke, he watched him closely, his full attention on him. As he finished, Dragon's own mind picked up where he'd left off and ran away with it.

He wracked his brain trying to think of any fungal users he might have met. He couldn't remember any of the top of his head. But Oliver, he knew, had gone to the Kingdom of Eridanus--so if they had no one, there were only two real concentrations of Gembounds left to check.

"We will watch them," Dragon answered gruffly. The child was no longer one of them, but he had been, once, and he'd always been honest and morally sound. Perhaps a little too much, but never mind. "If you can't find a fungus-... senser... with your Kingdom, then check with the Seven in Orion and with the Bonebound in Canis. They might know someone, either of them."

Dragon thought, for a moment.

"Do you know how this fungus is spread?"

Then he looked to Serek. "Serek, in fact, you knew the Bonebound. Can you go to them, and ask if any can sense this? And Oliver can check with the Seven. I will go around and try to find any of the Children, and warn them to avoid this, Hive. And if you come back, bring force, if you can. We may need it," he added, grimly thoughtful.