ORIGIN

Titanite picked its way through the ferns, movement slow--and not "slow" according to a standard scale. Slow for most was probably a cautious prowl; slow for Titanite was a barely-noticeable, glacial shift in branches. It had probably walked a few yards in the last hour, as if a small tree had decided to pick up roots and change backyard.

At the moment, it was fixated on the ground. Since the departure of its sibling and creator, its attention had wandered; lonely, it had sought out other life. It had tried to talk to the birds, to call them down to roost upon it.

The birds, as it turned out, wanted nothing to do with it.

Now it was following the tracing line of thin berry-vines along the dirt, trying to follow it back to its source: not an exciting task, for most, but it apparently gripped Titanite's full imagination. At last it lurched (if halting inch-by-inch movement can even be described as such) to a halt, and graaadually knelt, branch-like talons sweeping away the leafy detritus atop the base of the vines.

It had found their source! Faint light lit through the Titanite's body, a soft, wisping green glow; and its voice, like branches rubbing together, rasped out.

"Hellooo.... berries."

The 'tree'--some nine feet tall and very branchy indeed--turned slowly to face James. Titanite responded in the same whisper-thin voice it had used to, apparently, talk to the berries: "Hellloo..."

It paused, a moment of hesitation taking it. This was a stranger. It didn't often talk to strangers. It wasn't about nervousness, exactly; it was just a little... baffled, for a moment. What should it do-?

The tiny snail-child--it had liked plants. This one was eating plants. Perhaps Titanite could feed it.

A couple thin, green shoots sprouted from Titanite's hand-branches, after a moment, and it lurched forward with two jerky steps, offering these down. "Hellloooo," it repeated, a little awkwardly lost for conversational ideas.

Titanite let out a low, wheezing sound; it wasn't entirely clear what this was. Maybe a sigh, maybe thoughtfulness, or maybe some of its branches just hit other branches-... In any case, it stepped back once James had eaten its offering, and responded.

"I am... Titanite." A pause, and then a decision, apparently, reached: "I am... Titan. Jamesss..."

It looked over James, slowly, thoughtfully; and then asked, "What... are youu..? I am--tree." Titanite gestured at itself, wicked branch-talons indicating its wicker-like body. "I am... plant."

The lights dancing through its branches had faded, but as Titanite spoke they shone bright again, dancing through its branches as if indicating its curiosity.

It gave a long, soft rumble, or more appropriately a sort of bass wheeze, like a rattling rush of air. Then Titanite slowly lurched forward, its movements awkward, and it attempted to place one hand briefly--in a sort of approving pat, without the patting--atop James' head.

"That is... good. Magic... is... good. That is--what you do? Light?" it rasped, moving away, a little.

Like James it sort of dropped into a heap in the grass, though for Titanite, rather than on its haunches, it was in an odd cross-legged sprawl. Talonbranched hands reached out to sweep gently through the grasses. After a moment of contemplation, it began to answer the horse's questions. "I do... live here," it rasped; "I... am part... of the forest. Yess. I think... It iss... magic. Yess..."

A long pause, the conversationally-awkward tree beast looking at the foal. And then: "It is... nice? To... meet you. Too... I have not met a... what-you-are, before. A... horssse. Do you live here..? Are you part of... this forest?"

The green glow continued to shimmer and dance through the branches of the tree-beast as it turned, watching the purple glow of James' wisp, as well.

"Cetusss... I do not know it..." A long, bubbling sort of sound; but no, Titanite couldn't remember such a place. Do you protect the forest? Like a guardian? Titanite rumbled for a moment over this one, too, pondering. "...Yesss. I protect... the foresst," it decided, at length. Granted, it'd never really thought about it, before, but if someone were to march in and start tearing up his friend-trees, he'd be pretty mad!

James had a great deal of energy--a warm-blooded thing, an active and curious creature--and Titanite found it almost overwhelming to keep track. But it was exhilarating, too. Even those he had met were studious, methodical beasts, not young and enthusiastic, and such energy was both new and fascinating to him. It was... fun, almost, to try and talk to James, though Titanite was struggling to keep up.

Take this whole 'friend,' thing, for instance. The Titanite tried, briefly, to think over what that meant--and the whole time he was wondering, he feared that James might leap onto another topic entirely before he himself had the chance to answer. After a moment, then, he blurted--"-What... is a friend?" and peered quizzically to James, hoping the foal could explain this concept to him. His glow dimmed and went out entirely, as if worried, or fearful--or maybe he just couldn't hold the light-magic and the concentration on conversation all at once. Whatever the case, he went pitch black inside, and it didn't look like it was coming back any time soon.