ORIGIN

Aside from the regular noises of Cetus-- water sloshing, wings beating, insects crying --it was quiet. They lay beneath the surface of the water holding their breath, waiting. It couldn't see, not with the bark mask over their face, but it could feel the heat of a cave deer nearby, bending its neck to drink from the murky waters.

The water rippled briefly, and then Kala surfaced, their jaws open. It'd been fairly risky, but certainly wasn't the worst ambush they'd ever pulled off. The stripe-dappled lesser reared up with a horrific screech, sending a flock of lesser birds to the air and chasing away a second deer nearby.

It had it by the brunt of its forelimb, teeth sinking into flesh and muscle and bone. Kala thrashed violently, crunched harder, pulled back until the doe's hind legs buckled with the weight of them and fell. The kaiju was quick to let go and then bite again, harder, on the creature's throat.

Another few horrible seconds of thrashing and it fell still, eyes open, blood seeping out of various places.

There was no pride or self-criticism. Just hunger, as Kala began to strip away hunks of venison and snap them down. After the initial shrieks of the deer and the splashing and the struggle, it had fallen relatively quiet again.

They were, perhaps, content. And that seemed like enough.

Kala couldn't see-- at least not physically, with the bark mask covering its face, but it was certainly aware of his presence. It was wary, half-paranoid that he might try to come and steal away the deer while it was still trying to eat. As a result, it began to eat faster, choking down whatever it could bite at without abandon.

More and more, the closer Dragon got, the quicker its jaws snapped and pulled. It only stopped when Dragon spoke, and even so did that with a jerk, swinging its head to Dragon's general direction.

It then horked up half a leg, including the hoof, and spat it into the muck.

Manners were sure as hell nothing Kala cared about, nor cared to learn about it. It spent a good minute or so choking and coughing but, perhaps fortunately, nothing else came out of its mouth.

The monster then fell silent, absent-mindedly licking its jaws. It didn't go back for the deer (not while Dragon was at a distance, at least) and it didn't move very much, aside from the occasionally twitching ear and raking the mud with its nails.

"I... eat here," it said, because live here felt like a very generous definition. "And sleep... here."

Actually, maybe that was just the definition of living somewhere. Oh well.

Kala's head craned forward, and there came a loud, single huff as it sniffed in Dragon's general direction. Not that Kala had ever seen a dragon before, but it could have sworn there was something off about that name and what it belonged to. Not that Kala was exactly in a place to judge.

There was a low rumble that rolled out of its throat. "Kala," it added after a time, because that was its name.

It turned, long neck craning back to the half-eaten deer. They shook their neck out and ragged, greasy hair went flying out of the way for it to rip off another slab of meat, snapping this one down at a more comfortable-looking pace.

But soon, it was pausing again, looking to Dragon. "Is this... your territory?" It asked with an idle, ragged breath.

Kala was silent, its head angled to Dragon. It was listening, but really, it could have been coincidental and staring at absolutely nothing. The only indication that Kala hadn't entirely checked out yet was the ever-so-slight dip of it's head-- a nod, confirming that yes, its name was Kala.

Its shoulders were absently tensed as it listened to Dragon who-- in Kala's opinion --was saying a lot of words for someone who really just meant no. It must have been fine regardless, though, because Dragon was still alive and living here and he was speaking of children and sharing.

Kala slouched back, one massive hindleg positioning itself over the dead deer defensively. It did make a little point of turning its head around Cetus, as the swamp was apparently named, but there was absolutely no way Kala was going to share what belonged to them fair and square.

Luckily, though, Dragon seemed to predict this one.

Its shoulders heaved, briefly. It relaxed only briefly, finding some assurance in Dragon's words but ultimately remaining just a little safely suspicious, just in case. It settled back down anyway, leg shifting back, and it pulled off another hunk of meat to choke down.

A pause. It seemed comfortable enough, at least, to take its time formulating responses. "Why?" It eventually asked, though what it meant wasn't entirely clear. "Are there... other places?"

It had to take a moment, immediately after responding and being questioned again, to think. Despite the fact it had only spoken three seconds ago. In fact, it had to take a moment to process all the new information Dragon had given to it, also in the last few seconds. Roughly.

Another chunk of deer was taken out from its hindquarters and Kala chewed very slowly, the gears turning in its massive (but ultimately quite empty) head.

It sounded... nice? Perhaps that was the phrase Kala was looking for-- for a time, it imagined swimming in a place with dry heat warming the hairs on its back in a pool of water so clear it could see the cave floor beneath it (if it so elected to) and where the air was clean and fresh and it could scent things very easily without having to separate between various swamp-smells.

It swallowed. "Why... here, and not somewhere else...?"

Kala quite liked Cetus. It did live here, and it might have been their issue that it never bothered to see other rooms. It accepted that. That was life, and obviously, Kala had survived perfectly fine here, save for a missing digit and a couple of scars. It asked out of pure curiosity, of a want to hear someone's genuine reason to live in Cetus instead of--

"I was... born here," it said. It was not a good reason. "I never knew that... there were... other places."

For the first time, Kala could feel itself getting into the conversation-- as slow as it was drawling on, at least. It felt no need to ramble or to go off-topic, but it liked the back-and-forth, the beats and listening to someone else speak to it.

It had listened to other conversations before, and it wasn't very much a fan. They often went too quickly for it to be able to process correctly.

Its tongue swiped along its jowls, picking up bits of venison. "No family," it rumbled quietly, without any real sadness or regret behind it. Just a fact.

"Isolde is... my friend. We sit... together. Sometimes, she brings... food. Animals, or sweet things called... fruit." There was distinct fondness in this sentence, at least-- Isolde was the only thing Kala would consider a real friend, because Isolde seemed to understand it. She knew it didn't like to talk. She knew it liked distance. She seemed happy to do what Kala liked to do best: absolutely fuck all.

Now that it thought about it-- Dragon seemed to be along the same vein. He was at a distance, too, and waiting quite patiently for its responses. It was a while of 'staring' (facing dragon, with a mask on, so not staring at all) at him before it began to shift again.

Kala's jaws clamped over one leg-- one that had been mostly untouched by it --and was torn off with a leathery rip and a crack, before the limb was tossed over in Dragon's direction. It aimed for him, but it landed little ways to his left with a splash. With the food offered, Kala went back to eating.

They were friends now, it decided.