ORIGIN - concrete burns at the back of your skull

Orthoclase-Alpha was never one to let itself lie around. Soon as it was back in Tunnel P or Canis, it'd found a reason to leave again: hunting; further exploration; prowling around for viable life- and stone-givers. For the lattermost, it could use Hemlocke or any one of its assigned initiates, but it felt that it could rely on its own judgement the best.

One such judgement was making it think back to fruit-givers and her clan of equally out-of-the-ordinary beings; to Vargas and his attempted suggestions that it adopt a centaurian stance, wielding weapons not natural to it; to its introduction to Vivilene and her ilk. It'd walked away from that. Not this time — this time, it would get the elf's attention, and request a spar. No magic but that of man against beast.

It skulked through a cleared and tamped-down path in Eridanus, toxic gaze peering here, nostrils sniffing there. Tunnel N's soil had been too sweet to memorize "Dad's" scent, so it instead looked for unfamiliar odors.

Through picking apart odors and perception of trees clearing, Alpha broke into a sort of encampment. There was a lean-to with a number of beds on one side, and numerous vases. Some pelts were hung up to dry near a pile of soot and charred kindling. It observed all of it, sniffed — Vibblene. Head swinging around, it stepped towards an arrangement of tools. Dextrous, but strong enough?

The orthoclase lifted its head to call, but slipped onto two problems: one, it did not know the actual name of this being; two, Eridanus was noisy — bestial growling would spook the birds and others into hiding until they returned.

It eyed one of the sweeter-smelling jugs. An unnatural noise? That would draw attention to the owner.

A claw swept out for it, sending it on a cacophonous tumble into a rock where it promptly shattered into a thousand pieces. Perfectly — incredibly — noisy. The monster darted forwards to sample one of the pruny, essentially dessicated fruit inside (and decide it wasn't very good,) left massive footprints in the soil, and slunk into cover to watch and wait.

@Attikias

Snuffling of strangers when unnoticed as the owner of the camp was far, far away, rested at his designated spot by the twin Eyes. His spear wasn't with him, but the stone knife? It curled around another piece of wood, peeling away the visage of a beast that didn't exist.

He had work to do, and he was putting it off, unsure about the scripts the Collector had left behind. Of course they'd work, but... He shut his eyes, sighing out through his nose.

Clattering broke his thoughts. It wasn't a familiar shatter- it wasn't like rocks falling in a cave. No, this was more akin to- to... He startled, his tail sticking straight up as he scrambled to his feet. "Hey!" He knew his voice couldn't be heard from this distance, but he raced back to his camp, fear jostling in his heart.

Nobody was crying out, so nobody was hurt, but he still barked out a quick repetition of his shout as the clearing came into view. Nobody was there, it seemed- he squinted in disbelief. Jars don't just shatter on their own.

Time to don the detective's cap. The evidence of the vandalism was clear, and he judged it as he looked to the footprints idly. Paranoia was getting to his skin as he sidled over to the haphazard pile of weapons against a tree, hand reaching for whatever was closest and choosing a rather oxidized bronze sword.

Who would come by and do this? His family knew not to destroy things, and- was that the fruit? Come on, he'd had that ruminating for a while! His teeth grit gently as he stepped forward, levying the one-handed sword in front of himself and looking around the camp. "Who's there! I promise I won't be mad, just come out."

It was a wonder how he missed the hulking Alpha nearby.

@Orthoclase-Alpha

It didn't have to wait for long.

"Hey!" first, elf second. The orthoclase wasn't making any particular effort to hide, but it still seemed to be missed - or, was he getting ready to fight before actually checking the undergrowth? He had markings that weren't there before... they contrasted rather harshly against the aged bronze sword that he was pointing at the underbrush.

"Who's there! I promise I won't be mad, just come out."

Acidic eyes glinted into further view as the beast prowled forwards, just enough that it was crowding the edge of the camp, quills pricking. For all its intimidation, though, it seemed to be taking some prior lessons from Pride to heart (or putting them to the test) - as far as expressing its intentions when they weren't to ambush. It crouched somewhat lower to the ground, head tipped down so more snout than teeth was visible from Attikias's point of view. Were it not so broad and long, it might've been considered someone his size.

It quickly rattled off, "my designation is Orthoclase-Alpha. I wish to spar - with no magic. Raw strength and..." The trailing off was its best verbal indication of grasping for the word. "... tools against one another."

@Attikias