ORIGIN

"Yeah. Leo."

Even though unnecessary when unseen, Fahl averted his eyes. Nerves frayed and difficult to piece back together, what words that could be brought to mind scrambled and dissipated long before leaving his tongue. Neck muscles tense, he pried his jaws apart, seeking to force out fragmented thoughts in a more productive manner. Heat rippled out. Upon contact with a remaining fish, a low hiss rose.

He watched life die alongside the steam, then took a cautious bite. A chew and uneasy swallow after, speaking resumed, a rasp entrenched deep in his voice.

"It's large. And stretches far. In many directions." Feet busy, his tail swiped at the water's edge for an emphatic splash. "Like a giant pond. More water than land. But where there is land... it's sandy. Or rocky. And green. Trees with broad leaves and shade. Much warmer place than here."

The nod that followed this was more for himself than anybody else, encouragement to plunge onward and ignore the urge to revise previous statements with further elaboration too difficult and lengthy for his mouth to handle.

"And there's this... mountain." Hesitant at this term, he paused. And continued with a shake of the head. "This, uh, Blacksmith is there. I don't know if word has... reached. Outside Leo. But he was looking for help. To retrieve something. In Fornax, I think. For a Master."

"I'm going. Since he needed swimmers. Fighters." He puffed his chest pridefully, a performance to a blind audience. Realizing this, there was a subsequent slump of shoulders. "Might be a reward," he added. "Could be useful."

Should be useful. Hopefully something that could grant him an edge. Or perhaps, he considered, briefly abandoning selfish desires, for Imp. Could he ask for such a thing in another's stead?

Fahl's head tilted, and his eyes screwed up in concentration.

"Far-fareen?" It wasn't a particularly trying name to remember; the vague similarity to his own proved enough to jog the memory. "Farina. That make any waves to you?" For himself, knowing Masters' monikers hadn't been exactly top priority, his most prominent encounter spent fighting hypothermia in this very cave.

At Imp's warning, he cast a glance at the distant lagoon, the waterfall's endless crash no tamer from afar. Whatever Master in those depths had not seemed malicious, although the lizard had not taken kindly to the intense chill or the twinge of jealousy caused by such a display. But then again, appearances didn't mean everything. If his teacher thought this was so important, he'd heed it as best he could.

"I will." Tongue fulfilling its usual function of being more a hindrance than a help, cramming reassurance into his tone was like drawing out an entire lake through a narrow tube. Nevertheless, he tried, forcing every bit of breath into those two words. It might've instead come across as pushy, a bratty response from a younger adult.

And with this talk of Masters, Fahl couldn't resist doubling back in the conversation to gawk at the lineage Imp had revealed. "Granddad? Damn. Your whole family's got to have serious pull."

Not to mention major firepower. He had a lot to catch up to.

Eagerness overcame awe. "So you're pretty kickass. I mean," he amended, "I know you are. Show me, tell me any moves? I do okay. But anything bigger than me. In the water." Another bite and swallow of cooked fish before concluding with a shrug, "Eh. I could be better."

It didn't matter that Imp was blind; while his head turned this way and that, seeking out options, Fahl's own followed. A mirror's reflection, the student mimicked the teacher but offered no help, finding mostly water and stone. If not for the suggestion, which halted his unarticulated response mid-shrug, the moss would have gone entirely without notice, known as a snack more so than a learning tool. Search focused, the unmistakable sight of green in the cave struck him like a strong beam of light.

"Yeah," he said, ready to comply. In his mind, measurements were laid over the area, starting at his face and extending past where he imagined his tail tip ended. It was all rather lengthy in scale, but any doubts as to his capabilities went unvoiced. "I can get that."

As Fahl went on his way, the sudden release of pressure allowed what fish had not yet succumbed to death by roasting or suffocation the opportunity for escape. Of the three that remained, two were still kicking. And of those, only one managed to inch their way with desperate slaps of the tail to shallow water. The other was left to gasp, wildly squirming, easy pickings for whenever either party decided to have another bite to eat.

Speaking of having a nibble, although moss ranked below algae on the list of meal choices, the temptation to dig in before completing his task took far too much willpower to resist. Not wanting to take long, he risked a few gnaws on the plush surface. Halfway through peeling the moss back in a sizable sheet, the taste reinvigorated him and his efforts. He nosed along, stripping away a gently sloping hill and leaving behind a barren stretch of rock. Then, grasping the end carefully between teeth and supporting its underside with front feet, what appeared to be a long carpet was dragged backwards to the pond. Although he tried to announce his return, the words were muffled, mouth obviously already in use.

Somewhat of a burden, tossing the moss into the water became hauling it instead. Still moving in reverse and jaw beginning to ache, this Fahl carried until reaching close to the pond's center. There, he released and shouted out, "Got it. In here."

What answered the offer was not words but the rush of water as Fahl propelled himself with an easy sway of the tail toward the moss mat's current location. Not the sort to approach matters too carefully, a decisive kick began his attempt. Waves burst up to fall with a thunderous crash, and he was launched at his target, mouth held wide open and claws slicing cleanly through the pond's rippling surface. An unwise choice, as his jaws were flooded long before they finally clamped down upon waterlogged moss. While an undignified splutter tried to force its way out from his struggling throat, he attempted his best to follow through with practice, adamant that a pause would kill any momentum. Tail whipping, teeth sank in deep as possible, the roll began.

Dizzying—that was the way to describe the next events. It made sense. After all, he was spinning rapidly in place, a maneuver unfamiliar in comparison to his usual straightforward dips, dives, and sharp turns. Water replaced air, air replaced water, and the cycle repeated. Froth from the churning waves pounded against his eyes, blinding him to all but the death roll and the taste of the moss. He held on, every second passing by like a minute, his grip a tenuous one on reality itself.

Then there was a squelch. An audible tear. Fahl and the mat burst apart with a mighty explosion, and his body flew back in Imp's general direction. A ragged wad of moss clogged his mouth, frayed ends long and loose enough to cause the iguana to appear as if he had a green beard.

"Mmmf!" Whatever the yell was, it conveyed profound shock.

He did that. He actually tore a massive chunk out of that mat as if it had been no thicker than a blade of grass. If not for the evidence floating there, the inflicted injury a blatant bite that he could have almost swore had the telltale imprint of teeth marks, the entire outcome could've scarcely been accepted. Seeing it, stunned disbelief dimmed and self-satisfaction faded in.

Yes, he had done that. And whoever he dealt with using that move for real had better watch out.

Fahl wheeled around to face Imp, and his eyes, catching the glint of the cave lights off the water, could have been bright with cheer. More muffled, incoherent noises strained to push past his mouth's obstruction. Exuberantly nodding, he advanced through the water to the shore so that he could meet his teacher on solid ground. Once he finally reached there, the moss was spat out, and his words spilled out from him in a halting deluge.

"Yeah! I tore it up. Really good. If that fucker were alive... bet he'd be hurting now." He nudged the rather large clump of moss closer, eager for an evaluation. "Have a feel. That seem painful enough?"