ORIGIN - the city has a sun now

Orion could be quiet, even peaceful, during the dawning hours; where gembounds only started to stir, and the lights of the caves began to flicker into their vibrant glow. Casimir wasn't particularly a morning person, but sometimes the world decided that today, he was going to be awake whether he wanted to or not. He made his way to the gardens his father had made, leaving behind his sleeping siblings (and pray that they stay sleeping, for once). Under the warmth of Orion's light, the little garden thrived, and the young Casimir sat himself down among the soft grass and blooming flowers.

Here in the peace and quiet, Casimir took a moment to reflect. His family could be a bit overwhelming, but did he really want to be anywhere else? He had everything he could possibly want: safety, comfort, love. Every time he contemplated, under the shimmering lights and surrounded by flowers, he found his answer unchanged: He wasn't going anywhere. He simply wasn't made for adventure and chaos like his siblings. And why go anywhere, when he could stare at his father's garden and feel perfectly content?

He raised a paw and tried to groom out some of the knots that had formed in his sleep, struggling to get the gunk from between his toes. It would take him all morning to even come close to getting his pelt clean... After only a few minutes of trying to get one leg presentable, his tongue felt like it was going to fall off. The rest would have to wait. He laid down among some bright bluebells, gently raising his huge paw to brush the soft, delicate flowers.

Casimir had been gifted with his father's magic, but even though day in and day out he tried to coax it out in different ways, he hadn't much luck. It always seemed to want to cling to his fur, tangle in the thick curls like substrate. At least without anyone around to pester him or make him feel pressured, he could try at his own pace. With a deep breath, the young cub spread his toes and tried to make one of the bluebells that had yet to flower bloom.

Immediately, a sprout twisted toward his fur, toward his skin that seemed like the tastiest soil, and a sharp hiss spat from between Casimir's teeth as his magic sparked. "No, not that--" But try as he might to redirect his magic, his immediate frustration only caused the magic to kick back, and the sprout slashed through his skin. It didn't take root, whether from his resistance or his lack of experience, but it did cause crimson to bloom through his pristine fur.

Ears twisting back with annoyance, the feline licked at the injury before it stained his fur further.

@Tobias

@Casimir !

There's a certain magic in watching the world come awake and alive, in the opening verses of carollers in the air, in the way the trees' details slowly emerge in glowing gold. His siblings aren't much for mornings — Pelly's always been a sleeper-inner, and with Casimir, it can go either way — but young Tobias, oh, he loves them. Yes, the height of day is brightest, and afternoons are warmest, and the shadows that come out after nightfall have a certain spooky temptation about them. Every minute has its own special something. But there's nothing quite like rising with the light, knowing that something new awaits him each day, that he'll be there for all of it from dawn until dusk.

Which is why, when he opens his eyes to daylight an hour too late, it hits him like a smack across the face.

He groans softly. "Pelly ... ?" Cuddled up beside him, his dear brother Ampelio lies in majestic repose on their back, legs twitching in the air, mouth ajar. Tobie gives them a tentative prod, which gets him a dark, faintly baleful grumble in return. "DREAM IN PROGRESS," this means. "DO NOT DISTURB." He sighs and rolls away, yawning. It would be the easiest thing in the world to go back to sleep, but he's already lost a precious slice of the day, and he can't miss any more of it. Why on earth is he so tired? Stretch, stretch — pick up a forepaw, scrub his face with his wrist; scrub, scrub, scrub ...

Wait. That's why.

It's starting to come back to him now. Pelly, walking, climbing, dark, more climbing, up, up, up, and down ... Ohh, yes, now he remembers, and suddenly, it's not his exhaustion that bothers him, or his belated arrival to this beautiful day: it's the fact that his adventure — ... well, it didn't fail, it just wasn't finished, but still the thought is very upsetting. And, another flicker of a memory — didn't Pelly fall and twist an ankle? Or did they just land on it funny? Would it be better by now? He well and truly isn't sure. Oh, no. He could just wait around and ask after they wake up, but that could take ages, and ...

Where's his other brother? He glances around, glances around — no Casimir here, no Casimir there, so he raises his muzzle and sniffs for that telltale smelly scent. There, but of course! Off by the flowers, the droopy blue ones. It's a short walk, and Tobie lets his nose lead the way. He stumbles at first, but little by little, his bleary body agrees to cooperate, and soon, the white smudge of his brother's shaggy fur takes shape in the distance.

Tobias pauses, ears pricked, then drops into a crouch and sneaks closer, craning his neck to get a better glimpse of his brother as he goes. What's he up to, huh? Just poking around? No, there's something purposeful in his movements, something intent. There usually is, with him. Tobie hears a pointed hiss, but he can't make out the contents (too low), nor the cause (he's on the wrong side). Boy, he doesn't look happy at all, does he? For a second, Tobie's almost a little worried, but Casimir is, well ... he's Casimir. Tobie loves him for it, though, just as he loves every day, every hour, everything and everyone in their own special way. He'll turn that frown upside down in no time at all. Just you wait.

"Good mooorning, Cas-i-mir!" he calls brightly, letting the words rise and fall like birdsong in his mouth. Genuine curiosity colors his voice as he pops up and bounces closer, despite the question he's really itching to ask. His brother's pursuits may not exactly be fun, but they are interesting, if also sort of mystifying. "Wh — mm —" (He's still working on making his tongue do what he wants it to. It's been getting better, though!) "What are you doin' with those flowers?"

At that moment, something catches his attention, and you can almost see a dotted line traveling in midair from his eyes to Casimir's leg and back. They widen into sparkling, rippling pools of blue, round with surprise. He jumps a little and raises a forepaw to point, gasping lightly. "Hey, whoa, look! Is th-th-that — ? Are you okay?"

It was truly remarkable how a few, simple, musical little words could bring Casimir's morning to a complete stand still. How many times had he heard the baying ♫ Good moooorning! ♫ of his brother, and yet every time it hit him like a sunbeam directly to his eyes. With a wince, his eyelids would shutter close, his shoulders tensing, and the fur along his spine would try and fail to rise under its weight, just like every other time.

Once adjusted to the brightness of his brother's mewling, the sounds were sweet and warm, and reluctantly Casimir could raise his head from his wrist and peek open one eye to squint over at the soft, round silvers of his lynx-kitten face. Seeing those big blue eyes staring out at him made embarrassment root down somewhere in Cas's chest, but it was shyly tucked away by a stoic aloof energy.

So proudly did Cas raise his little, scraggly bearded chin, fixing his baby brother with a focused stare. It could be intimidating, maybe, if only to someone not so close to him. Instead, this was a common practice: Tobie fumbling his tongue over words in an eager babble, and Cas-i-mir ♫ not moving his lips until every single word was decided on and triple checked by every neuron in his brain during every single conversation.

Tobie, naturally, babbled out a question before Casimir could even decide on which greeting was most appropriate for this early in the morning, whether it was a good morning or not, and how to say it so his tone didn't come across as, well...

That question put away his greetings, and in their place came a more hastily insistent answer. "I'm not--" But Tobias wasn't accusing his oldest triplet. He was chasing harmless curiosities like he always did, and technically, Casimir was trying to use magic on those very flowers... it hadn't gone right, though, and so much like the child he was, he tried to hide his mistakes. A report card, a messy floor shoved under the bed, a broken vase.

And child he was, he wasn't very good at hiding: his fur was stained red with the mark his guilt. Even Tobias could see that. His nose crinkled, ears twitching, and his mouth hung open, lips wiggling about his teeth as he openly struggled to explain himself. A couple heartbeats, and then:

"It's nothing." So came his hasty reply, urged by his brother's prompting questions. Casimir had a hard time with being put on the spot, and it showed clear as day before those big, innocent blue eyes. He had to have an answer right at the tip of his tongue, before ideas sprung to his baby brother's fuzzy little head. "I'm fine. Snagged on a thorn." Too quick. The flowers their father planted here didn't even have thorns to speak of. A deep breath, and more composed, he set his paw down in the dirt and pushed himself to his feet, as though to show he could still use his leg just fine. "... It does not even hurt."

If he was being honest, he didn't want Tobias to worry. That was really all it was, more than pride or shame combined. Of course, Tobie wouldn't let such worries drag down his whole day, but... It still felt terrible-- wrong, even-- to bring a rain cloud over that sunny disposition.

@Tobias

@Casimir !

Now, let's be very clear, here — Tobias is not among the faint of heart and lily of liver, thank you very much. He's gonna be an adventurer, and adventurers don't balk at the sight of blood or anything else. No problem, right? Right! Give him all the gore you've got! He can handle it, honest! ... But to spot that bloom of red on the coat his brother tries so hard to keep clean, on his brother — ... Oh, dear. He sets his paw back down on the ground, frowning, brows furrowed. Then, he draws his eyes up to Casimir's. Even now, his brother's gaze is so much sharper than his, paler, more green in it. But Tobie's brothers are as constant to him as his home, and that trademark stare, like Ampelio's toothy smile, is just another feature of the landscape. The crinkly nose and wobbly lip, on the other paw, are not.

"It's nothing."

Is it? It sure doesn't look like nothing. "I'm fine," Casimir says — "Snagged on a thorn." Tobie glances down, idly swishing a paw through the flowers beside him. The shape of his brother stands up in his periphery, and he snaps back into eye contact, expression unconvinced. "It does not even hurt." Tobias hesitates. "Okay ..." It's the kind of "okay" that creeps along in a slightly drawn-out curve up and down, the kind of "okay" that says "if you say so," the kind that's absolutely dripping with doubt.

This is the thing about Casimir, and for an instant, Tobie could almost crumple with dejection — not because of the blood, because first, he trusts his brother, and second, he looks okay on his feet, and third, if there's anybody who can take care of themself in this family, it's Casimir, and fourth, Tobie trusts his brother!! — but because, well, if Casimir is gonna be such a wet vegetable that he won't even admit where the blood came from, or what he was doing with his flowers, then why would he ... ?

But, like I said: that's only for an instant, and then Tobias is himself again, as if none of the above ever happened. "Weeeeell ..." He sidles a little closer, shuffling his paws in a mingling of nerves and excitement that he's altogether failing to hide. This is tricky terrain, his destination far away. He's going to have to move juuust right if he wants to get there. "I — I had an idea," Tobias begins. He glances over his shoulder. There, the cliffs stagger their way across the near wall, a jagged set of stairs to nowhere but up. A dreamy smile floats to his face as he turns back to his brother. "Do you ever wonder wh-what's it's like up there? The view? You could sss-see everything. Pelly and I tried to go on an adventure there last night! B-B-But ..." More shuffling as he trails off. His features settle into focus, hopeful, faintly anxious. "And s-so I was thinking, maybe we could go together. The problem was, w-we couldn't find a way up. But I bet you could! B-B-Because, well, you're sss —" Softly, sheepishly: "Because you're smart."

And here, a dramatic sigh of defeat. "But you're probably busy, doing ..." (Wait, what did Casimir say about that again? Anything, O Memories? No? Tobie swirls a paw vaguely to fill in the blank.) "... w-with your flowers, and being ... not hurt, and ..."

Who is he kidding? He drops the act, slides the rest of the way over — looks up at his brother with a tentative little smile, eyes narrowing from the bottom up.

"Oh, c'mon, Cas! Let's have some fun."

His voice is barely louder than a whisper, but it's bursting at the seams with longing and enthusiasm, an open plea. Cas? Tobie's never called him that. Where on earth did that come from? Oh, he doesn't care — all he knows is, he is hoping.

Of course, Tobie's big blue eyes stared his big brother up and down, doubt as clear as a crystal in those obvious, shimmering pools. Okay, Tobias answers, and even a total stranger can tell he's not convinced. Casimir's fur settled anyway, a huff coming from a breath he didn't realize he was holding.

It wouldn't be so simple, though. Now that Tobias was awake, that marked the end of Casimir's alone time. There was about a fifty percent chance that Pelly would be chasing his heels, and soon, the big wooly cub would be completely outnumbered. He loved his brothers more than anything-- maybe even his own fathers-- but goodness, how was he ever going to figure out this magic if he didn't have time to practice without someone staring him down? Tobias might not judge him, but that didn't mean he wanted an audience either.

Aaaand there it was. Tobias had an idea. Casimir braced himself, squaring up his shoulders and shaking out his fur with a shake of his head. "Let's hear it," Casimir replied in a tone that dragged itself through the mud. He was resigned to at least hearing Tobias out, but he could already guess:

An adenture. A little trundle into the great unknown. A mention of having fun, as though Casimir sitting around at home was incapable of doing something worthwhile. His two brothers were always chasing some new height of entertainment, and it was lost on him. His back-swept ears pricked anyway to listen, following his brother's honest stare up the nearby cliffs.

Casimir felt his stomach drop just glancing up and thinking of how high it must have been. He didn't even enjoy being up on his deer-father's haunches for a little ride, much less... "... Is that how Ampelio got hurt?" Came Casimir's astute observation; when you shared a den, it was hard to avoid noticing every little thing.

Note: If "Cas" noticed the nickname, it clearly didn't bother him.

His icy stare was frozen upon those dangerous, jagged cliffs. Of course, it was hard to miss the wide-eyed stare even from the corner of his vision. Tobias was giving him that hopeful look, big, round saucers bleeding right into his soul like the warmest light of the day.

"I'm not busy," Casimir reluctantly corrected his brother, ears flattening. "I was not doing anything with any flowers." A touch of compliment, whining, and begging, and Tobie could convince someone to give him their dessert. "But... That sounds like a fantastic way to get into trouble. Why can't we have fun here, away from..." Tall, dangerous, dizzying heights? Ohh, we're starting to sound like a scaredy-cat, Casimir. Surely he's not a scaredy-cat, right?

No, no, no. It was perfectly rational. Pelly had already gotten hurt-- if not on this particular adventure, then a similar one-- and Casimir did not want harm to come to Tobias, either. "Without risk of injury." So succinct. Surely Tobie wouldn't have a counterpoint against that.

@Tobias

@Casimir !

All right. Initial thoughts? Tobias cocks his head to the side, searching his brother's expression for a giveaway — and failing to find any. Casimir has done him the honor of listening, at least, and that's a step in the right direction! But ...

"Is that how Ampelio got hurt?"

... Oh. That's — okay, that response is less than promising. Shuffle, shuffle. "Um ..." Now, there's a number of different ways he could answer. Way #1: "No?" Even in his head, it comes out with a question mark. Way #2: Well, he does have a number of excuses — it was dark, and ... Pelly is known to be a little bit reckless. Which doesn't always mix very well with the fact that Tobie himself is admittedly also a little bit reckless. This time would be different, see! They've got hours of daylight, and the addition of Casimir's wisdom and caution would ensure their success. However, there is a problem with Way #2, and that problem is ... can he remember a time, even once, ever, where he actually managed to out-logic Casimir? Can you? I sure can't. And this brings us to Way #3. Feebly and, yes, slightly guiltily: "Maybe."

His brother goes on to clarify a couple of points: no, he isn't busy, and no, he was not, in fact, doing any things with any flowers. Well, what was he doing, then? And what about the blood?! All of Tobie's sheepishness evaporates, indignant curiosity taking over. The mystery is downright eating at him at this point, but — oh, what does it matter, that's all over now, and you know what isn't over? Tobie's adventure!! Please, please —

"That sounds like a fantastic* way to get into trouble."

... !!! Yes! Yes!! He finally gets it! Oh, he finally gets it, the appeal of trouble, the appeal of adventure! He's in! Oh-boy-oh-boy-oh-boy!! Tobie nods rapidly, leaning closer, eyes dancing. His manners remind him in his fathers' solemn voices: "Interrupting is rude, dear Tobias." But that is not the first, second, or indeed even twentieth thing on his mind, and so he takes a breath, breaking into an open-mouthed smile —

"Why can't we have fun here, away from ..." What?!? Oh, come on! "Without risk of injury."

And just like that, the light's left his eyes. Tobias deflates: ears, shoulders, whiskers, all of him drooping. Still his mouth is hanging open, but the corners have fallen slowly into a frown. Well done, Casimir — you've just flicked the switch from elated to devastated. Tobie hesitates for a moment. His attention sinks to the stain of bright red on his brother's leg. "... I-I-Isn't that an injury?" he says quietly.

But he doesn't altogether expect a response; once again, there's no out-logicking Casimir. He'll probably argue the risk isn't as high or repeat that "it's nothing" or something like that, assuming he doesn't outright avoid the question. And ... let's be honest. The wet vegetable does have a point. It was Tobie's idea, like he said, which means Pelly's accident (however minor) is kind of sort of technically his fault. Casimir's the only one of the three with a fully-functioning sense of self-preservation. Who could blame him for wanting to sit this one out? Tobie puffs out a sigh. "That's all right." His ears flick forward as his features gradually brighten and relax. Up go his eyes, back to his brother's — and at the sight of that icy gaze, that immovable countenance: "It's not fair to ask you to do s-s-something you don't want to do. So —"

Something seems to call to him as it did before, and he sets his sights high over his shoulder. The stairs to nowhere. Again that dreamy look on his face — but this time, when it settles, it's into a smile of soft determination, eyes a little narrowed, brows at an angle. "I'll s-see you later, Casimir," he says to the cliffs, and his feet begin to go the way of his intentions ... but in no time at all, a sudden shock of semi-short-term memory stops him mid-turn. Did he catch something about having fun ... here? One of his forepaws hovers in the air.

"Unless ..." He peeks over at Casimir. "Do you have an idea?"