ORIGIN

Pride considered his child's words, giving them his full attention and thought for a few moments--trying to really understand them--before even attempting any sort of answer. Oh, he could've rattled off the usual advice--'take your time,' 'practice,' all that sort of thing, but he'd been over it already and there was more here than that.

Slowly he lowered himself to knees, then hocks, then laid on chest and side against Temperance's nudges. 'I'm not going anywhere,' his body language said; 'I'm here for you,' and 'we're in no rush.' An ear flicked and he looked off toward the Throne; toward the bones atop it. He knew what anger was like, and how difficult it could be to rein it in.

He could feel Mercy lingering at the edge of his consciousness, equally concerned, and his gentle presence was a help that Pride briefly leaned on as he thought.

When at last he spoke, glancing to Temperance with a placid, but concerned, gaze, it was with slow and measured words.

"Well, I can tell you two things: first, I'm not as calm and collected as I might seem. I have to work at that, hm? But you shouldn't compare yourself to me--that's the second thing. The only person you ever need to compete with is yourself," he said gently, reaching out his nose to attempt a nudge. "We're all different--every living thing. It's about being the best that you can be. Everyone has their strengths; no one is perfect at everything. Or even perfect at one or two things. So with that in mind, let me ask--I'd like to make sure I'm understanding you completely, all right?"

He glanced at Temperance, at the upset little kid he hadn't ever seen coming. "You feel angry a lot, you're saying? And frustrated? And you're saying that makes you even more upset, because you feel like you're failing at self-control?" His words were gentle; a slow summary, a question: was he understanding his child correctly?

He wanted to be sure that he was reading everything right; communication, as he'd said, was key.

Pride listened, and Pride considered. This wasn't the sort of thing for which he could rattle off an easy fix, and for good reason. Well, reasons; first, and foremost, he didn't know where the cub's anger was coming from. He lay gently available to Temperance, to the affection and closeness, reciprocating with a light lick at the cub's head but his mind was half elsewhere. If he'd known where the anger was from it'd be easier to handle, of course; well, most likely. But what if it were something with a source not easily removed? Pride's anger only cropped up, really, at injustice and when it did it was unquenchable. Nassir had reassured him about it and more than that, Mercy had always provided a quietly stabilizing force--Mercy's gentle confidence. He could guess that Mercy would be a better parent to talk to about these things--or would he? Did Mercy have experience with anger?

Have you ever been angry? he sent, an amused thought, to Mercy; this entire thought process was open to the lion regardless and this was a loving message sent straight mind-to-mind.

But the Temperance was the only one, in the end, who could speak for himself--for his reasons--even though he likely didn't understand them. So Pride tried to coax this out of him, thoughtful. "You say you get angry over very little, too-? You mentioned Ember; had he done anything to annoy you? Was he simply--too slow at something?" The wolf-dragon was certainly slower-paced; not necessarily stupid but almost lumbering his way through childhood. Maybe he was frustrating Temperance, somehow, in his behavior..? "Can you think of things that normally make you angry, aside from magic? And--be careful; if you're thinking about them it might make you mad all over again. I'm not trying to do that, okay? I want to help you, but to do that I want to figure out what's making you mad to begin with. It's all right if you don't know," he added.

His own anger wasn't like that; Temperance was right in saying that Pride was relatively well-controlled. His anger had a very specific trigger, so this rather explosive one--maybe it was just... a kid thing? Something Temperance would grow out of?

He knew that he had experiences with rage that Mercurius did not, but it didn't seem wise to share those with such a young cub just yet. Maybe he could... simplify it, a little.

Leave out the blood, and death.

One so young doesn't need to know these things.

A white ear flicked as he listened, and he grew more and more troubled. He could understand the logic behind Temperance's words, but where had his parents--his family--ever given him the idea that he was not loved, not valued? Not worth them..? He'd never really made any of them out to be big, or important, so it must have been assumptions on Temperance's part. Insecurity? he wondered; was the cub feeling useless, so imagining everyone else to be greater than they were?

Pride considered how to address this. Again, he was mostly out of his depth; but he had seen this before in others, and had a little experience in dealing with it. He remembered James doubting himself into tears, more than once; Livius always believing themselves to be too little, too weak. Reassurance, at least, he could do.

"You know, you aren't the only one to think that," he started, slowly. "There's a lot of Gembound out there who think everyone else is better than them. That they aren't enough--that they'll never be enough. It's a very normal thought. And it isn't true. Everyone's unique. Don't ever look down on someone, Temperance--least of all yourself--if you don't see something amazing right away. They're amazing because they exist; they live, they see the world through their own eyes. Everyone has their own perspective to offer, their own thoughts, their own heart. Your species, or your physical form, doesn't change that."

He paused a moment, to let the cub perhaps mull this over, and then continued. His words were measured, gentle as he could manage; he only hoped he hit some sort of chord with the his words, and didn't simply bore or confuse him.

"I know this is a lot of words," he added, a little drily--in a self-deprecating way--remembering Jampa's tantrums when he'd talked too much. "But they're important ones. Whatever measure you're using to judge yourself, it's wrong--until you find one that tells you you're as valued as everyone else. Because you are. I don't love or value you any less than my other children. And your potential--as a person, as a magic-user, as a hero, as a toolmaker--as whatever you want to be--is just as great as anyone else's. You needn't worry about proving yourself; not to your family or to anyone else. Just relax, and be who you want to be. We will love you no matter what you choose to become!"

He wanted to tell him about Nassir, now--it would have been a perfect time, to point out that his lineage was wonderful, that he had history behind him. But Pride felt it would undermine, right now, the message he was trying to so strongly impart: that history and expectations weren't what mattered.

"What matters is being happy in life, whatever you do; and we'll always be family, Temperance. There's nothing wrong with you; there's nothing you're doing wrong. Mistakes--like with your tail--are something we all make, and we shouldn't judge ourselves or others for making them. They're just a part of life."

He would've nudged the trembling child's shoulder, but Temperance had pulled a little away, and he decided instead to respect that; he'd offer warmth and words, as best he could--and it wasn't perfect; it never would be, but it was all that he could give.

He'd see what the child would do with it--and he was pensive, worried, in case it wasn't enough.

More questions, more demands--a shout, apologies for what Pride assumed was the verbal outburst. He sighed. "You won't be awful so long as you care for others, Temperance, and I'll always love you regardless. I'd try to help you if you took that sort of path--hurting others. To turn you away from it, because that, is never the answer." This came with a more stern look--a serious one, a solemn one. "Whatever we do, we never take it out on others. Everyone in these caves has worries, like you do. Family, like you do. They love, and fear, and hope, like you and I. The only awful thing is to hurt those Gembounds without cause, understand-? Anything else you do--anything you become--is perfect; it's fine."

He paused, thinking. "I don't know why you want to--run and stand still at the same time. Try both, one after the other, hm? As for meat and grass--you are half leopard, and half stag." It occurred to Pride, as he spoke, that maybe this was the source of half the cub's stress..? Maybe his diet wasn't fulfilling his growing body properly; maybe it was bubbling up in anguish, impatience, anxiety. "We can try other foods, if you like. Fish, or fungus, or just fruit."

He nudged a banana forward--one appearing out of thin air--and went on. "These, at least, are magic and should help you either way. As for the rest, the honest answer is that I don't know. I don't know everything; but you have my support, and you have Mercy's, no matter what happens. He may be better to speak with about your--restless feelings?" he suggested.

He hesitated for a moment, and then cast a brief mental apology to Mercy. I'm going to hint at your past, Mercy. I don't mean to break your privacy but I think it's important Temperance knows who he can speak to. I won't say much, he added, and then gently spoke aloud. He drew closer to say the words, which were given very quietly, hushed like half a secret. "Your lion father's been through a lot, Temperance. I don't think he'll tell you everything--certainly not until you're older. But he will understand what it's like to go through troubled times. He might have better advice than I do; he's certainly always been the gentler of the two of us."

Pride debated, for a moment. Was it possible that something from Nassir had trickled into this child? He didn't think that memories or feelings really passed from parent to child; some personality, perhaps, but Temperance showed nothing of Nassir in him. And, for that matter, very little Pride. He was his own creature, unique and wonderful in his own way, but Pride couldn't find a source for his worries in either parent, so that line of questioning faded in his mind rather quickly. Hmm.

"In the meantime, do you want to try and relax a little? I'll try and think about what you've told me, maybe talk to Mercy, see if we can't think of something that will help you. We shouldn't practice now; you're too upset, and magic will only hurt us both if we try to use it while upset--remember that. I can tell you a story, if you want-? Something real, if you like, or something made-up." He'd already resolved not to tell Temperance of Nassir yet; this was absolutely not the time, now more than ever. But the cub had little reason to ask of that just now, and if he did, Pride would gently redirect it.

"We can simply walk," Pride agreed, companionably. A brief peak, a silent consultation, along his link and he had located Mercurius easily enough. "He should be in his garden, I think. Near where you were hatched."

He cast a brief, mischievous glance to the cub. "You're sparkling," he observed, amused but kindly; "It's the fruit. It will wear off soon. Pretty, no?"

Hoof-clicks echoed over the stone as he began to lead the way, a quiet and unhurried walk. And a thought occurred to him--a thought that might even help Temperance, to hear of. "...Have I ever told you how I met Mercy?" he asked. He hadn't, now that he thought on it. He glanced to the black cub, thinking. "Do you wish to hear of it?"

It was only a short tale, but it would bridge the gap of their little walk, and it might give the little one something to think on.