Venari considered his question. She didn't know what he did and did not know about death, but she could explain her understanding of it at least. Chewing on the subject, she thought for a moment longer, putting her words together carefully.
"Hm. For me, the feeling is that it would not matter. Another would simply take my place and my task; and perhaps, the Architects would revise my design, so that the next iteration of me may not fail again." She watched as he began to grow flowers at the mouth of the den. Smiling as he turned back to look at her, she nodded. "Thank you, I will take care not to trample them," she promised.
Venari gestured to him then, and shrugged as she said, "But you claim you were not designed, that your... parents, were your Architects—or rather, a lack thereof. You were just... created. Just because." She still had a hard time wrapping her head around it. That Oliver had no task, no designation, just this strange freedom. "Even so, if you were to die, and assuming your stone were still intact, you could live again. Not you, per se, but your stone anyway." That was the important part to Venari.
She crept forward to inspect the new life of budding flowers.
"Maybe it is different for us," she concluded. "Maybe your life is different than mine."
@Oliver
Venari nodded to his question; at least, she assumed someone would replace her. That's what it felt like for her, anyway. When Oliver went on to speak about Venari as an individual, her eyes traced him thoughtfully. He said it wouldn't be her anymore, if someone replaced her, and she noted the pieces about him that might change if someone replaced him. Well, yeah, it wouldn't be her anymore. Her gaze drifted out into Eridanus as she thought. She was not particularly made to understand the idea of being an individual more than she was a part of a whole, a gear in some kind of system—but Oliver's words stirred something to life, something that had not been there when she had been created.
He'd still miss her, even if she were replaced. There would be a part of her, regardless of what came next, that would still be lingering in the caves. Her memory, bound in Oliver's thoughts.
Her body lowered completely, settling in to lay next to him as she rested above the flower buds.
Venari was more than her purpose.
A faint smile etched itself on her chitinous lips.
"Thank you," she said quietly, still staring out into Eridanus. Her purpose might not be too grand, and perhaps Oliver might be too soft to know it truly, but it still felt nice—an unnecessary sentiment—to know he felt that way about her at all.
After some time sitting silently, relishing in the endearing time she could spend with him, she turned to him solemnly. "My purpose is to Hunt," she started, her voice low and uncomfortable. "I am hunting a creature that leads a group that has failed in a task they were given—and not only failed, but seemingly have ignored it, and fled." Her head turned back toward Eridanus, her gaze escaping to the lush undergrowth. "This is what was told to me by my first target, Atinneas. But if my creator mentioned the group name, or leader, I have forgotten it," she continued, frowning. Surely it was mentioned to her, instilled in her as Atinneas was—an arcane moonstone?
She shifted, curling her legs beneath her. "Atinneas mentioned the leader believed in peace; I do not know what war was waged, but I wonder if they are like you, Oliver." Venari tilted her head down to look at him. "And if, like me, they were more than their purpose."
@Oliver
She felt her eyes narrowing as Oliver spoke, offering information and, she assumed, withholding more. Venari didn't recognize the name Reji, but it they had conquered the goal, then indeed she was not entirely sure what their crime had been.
"Rift," she echoed, committing the name to memory. She was meant to be a terminus for most, an end; she was the herald of a snipped timeline. That's what she felt deep down, anyway. And that being that was okay, it was her job and her purpose—but if Oliver were a part of the group, she frowned.
"So, you completed some task, at least," she clarified, looking out into the lush wilderness of Eridanus. Hmm... was that not enough? Slowly, her attention returned to the winged creature.
"Well, alright," Venari decided, peeking toward the basket she had set down at the mouth of the cave. She desperately wanted the subject to change. She was fine dropping it and never picking it up again, at least not with Oliver. "So, what kinda stuff do you gather in the basket?" she asked, having noticed small baubled rocks or seeds in it before—was there stuff in Eridanus he could gather before the trip back?
But it didn't settle well with her. She shifted, and after a short while, sighed.
"Sorry," came her voice finally, rubbing her scythes in a newfound habit out of anxiety. "Initially it was my intention to hunt you—your group, but I am no longer... upholding that contract." It had seemed, anyway, that they had completed a task, yes? Enough for her to agree the contract was null. "However," she looked back to him, "if you ever wish to form a contract, I will accept without question."
Venari did not think there were many creatures, if any, Oliver might need murdered. But you know, just in case, the offer was on the table.
"So, do you wanna go pick flowers?"
@Oliver
((im sorry for the wait but thank you for being so patient with me ;___;..))
For a moment, he thought she would not elaborate--that maybe she'd debate it, or had accepted his explanation; and anxiety fluttered in his heart. Venari asked of the basket, instead, and he blinked and looked down, and struggled to wrap his mind back around that topic.
But then she reversed, backing up again to talk about Rift, and the Kingdom; and Oliver blinked back up at her with wide and worried eyes. Worry was quickly displaced, however, by rising gratitude: she had been sent to hunt them (oh) but she would stop, now (oh!)! Oliver blinked, and broke into a broad, happy smile, his ear-tufts flattening back and his bird-dog tail feathers doing their damndest to unconsciously imitate a wag. They rustled behind him (distracting him, briefly) and he blinked and dipped his head a little bashfully.
"Oh! Um, thanks--for not hunting us," he offered, brightly, a little lamely. And then he blinked back to his basket, smiling. He'd already offered her his help any time she needed, so... it was time to explain, it seemed, the basket.
"I bring--in the basket, I mean, uhh... Dirt, a lot of the time. You know how Canis and Monoceros haven't really got a lot of dirt? They're lots of rock, like, and not a lot of plants, so I bring some soil in, basket by basket. Sometimes two baskets at once!" he added proudly. "And then I use it to carry seeds, and flowers, yeah-! We can pick flowers-... What color do you want? Or colors-! And I can regrow them after, so it doesn't kill the plants..." For a moment he babbled happily on--about what flowers he knew, and where they could get them, and maybe where they could be planted--as he picked up the basket and hobbled just outside the cave.
Then he glanced back, falling silent for a moment, eyeing Venari with that smile lingering on his face; he looked thoughtful, behind it. "I hope we can stay friends for a long time," he said, abruptly; and then turned toward Eridanus again. He passed one clawed 'hand' out over the buds he'd grown, and a brief spark of magicka had them growing, opening--not all of them, but a few, their colored heads bobbing toward the light.
{Table code credit to Madison, altered a bit!}
(Oliver exits here with his new BFF ok)