red menace - Printable Version

A few hours of aimless wandering bring the lizard to the center of the room, not that he'd be aware. The giant mushroom is so much bigger than Saul; it towers over him in such a way that he's dismissive of the shadow below. It is still warm here. Warm, damp, and not entirely unpleasant for a creature that is drawn towards such places. He felt safe here and wasn't smart enough to question it.

By now Saul had gotten a handle on the legs thing, and he'd stopped trying to masticate the ferns and the dirt, given that they'd upset his stomach something awful and now there was a perpetual ache there, one he didn't know to call hunger. He was simultaneously tired and wired, which made no sense - or perhaps just overtired, given that he'd been on quite an adventure for his little legs and he was still so very, very young.

To be honest, he didn't know what to do next. Return to one of the dirt paths, see where it led him? Go back the way he'd come - to the place with the colorful lights and the brittle stone of his beginning? If he'd had any sense at all, he'd never have left Polaris.

Acheron had been working on two things in the past days. First: her language. It had grown from babylike single words to uncertain sentences, and though still simple, was rapidly progressing. It helped that her father could simply inject the meanings of his thoughts directly into her mind; there was no guesswork involved, really. The second thing?

Eating.

She'd found that, while meat smelled appetizing enough, she didn't like to kill stuff; so she'd gotten Pride's permission to come to Eridanus to find plant food. The gardens in Orion simply couldn't sustain her, so she was here, today, bounding wildly around the foliage.

'Go slow,' she'd been warned; 'keep your eyes and ears out for danger, and stay fairly quiet.' This was all advice she had immediately forgotten, and Acheron was instead leaping and frolicking among the bushes with magic-infused abandon, tongue lolling puppylike and eyes wide with a sort of silly joy. Now and then she barked and yipped, or sang a nameless tune, and she kept absolutely no watch for danger of any kind.

It was like this that she damn near tripped over Saul--she burst out of a cluster of bushes, still searching for some fruit or the like, and staggered to a stop as she saw the stranger just ahead. "-Hi!" she said brightly, after a moment staring, and then she tilted her head. Oh--maybe it can't speak?

Brilliantly, she hit on a way to test that theory.

"Can you speak?" she asked.

Genius.

The sounds of movement were low enough that he could hear them, and while he did not immediately react, Saul did think first of the many-eyed stranger that he'd come across before. Maybe that thing had come after him? He wasn't afraid. He wasn't smart enough to question things beyond the realization that, hey, something was there!

The shape that came bounding through the ferns was much smaller than the many-eyed thing. It was spry, and tall, but it crawled (or rather, crashed) through the greenery in a rather obnoxious way. After it landed and thrust its face towards Saul, the lizard's spinal plates lifted with the instinctual need to prove he was big and strong and dangerous, really!

The creature erupted with the same sound as the last - a greeting, not that Saul knew that. He blinked and stared back at them, and then the creature made more sounds.

"Hhhh," The lizard half-hissed, not really getting how speech worked. But he'd made a sound! That was progress.

".... hhh, hi," Saul eventually managed, the sound of his voice so diminutive he could've been mistaken for a broken squeaky-toy, or something.

-It could talk!

...Sort of. Maybe-? Acheron tilted her head, bright-eyed, and dropped her goat-like rump to the ground, her little tail swishing like a dog's. "Hi!" she repeated cheerfully.

"I am--Acheron!" It took her a brief moment to remember her own name, or at least how to say it. (She should have, she was already thinking, picked something less complex.) "What are you?" she then asked--a blunt, happy question.

A moment later, oblivious to the scale display, she was back on her feet and trying to sniff Saul over. Acheron wasn't aware of how it might come across. She hadn't learned that sort of empathy yet, and curiosity had overpowered her, so here she came: nose thrusting for the little lizard, snuffling loudly, pointed little tail still wagging furiously behind her.

An idea occurred to her--a memory of one creature her dad had described that just might fit the bill. Small, with scales, and it couldn't fly: "Are you a snake?" she guessed, hopeful.

This thing -- this acheron as it bellowed of itself -- was more energized than the last creature and it was immediately overwhelming to the lizard. There was a flow of sounds and then a nose thrust in to his periphery, a stomp of feet, the crowding sensation of warm, coarse hair dragging quickly against his own hide.

Of all the new sensations the newborn had experienced, this one was the most unpleasant. Their face was wet; that nose touched at Saul and made harsh grating noises that made his spine raise further.

Saul reacted: feeling threatened and overwhelmed, there was a strong need to protect himself that channelled through his skull and erupted in a spidering energy, arcing from scale to scale like some kind of protective vest; the snapping was quick and if he was lucky, snapped across the nosey thing's snout.

Acheron hadn't ever really felt pain, before. Well--once she'd sort of tripped, her bouncing magic failing her, and she'd fallen and banged a knee, but that was that!

Saul quickly taught her a lesson about personal space, though, a slight but shocking pain zapping across her wet nose.

She flinched, a short yelp (more of surprise than real pain) escaping her, and stumbled back to land once again on her rump. She sat there for a moment, staring dumbfounded at Saul, before her magic flickered a weak shield up in front of her--way too little, far too late, and for a moment even that confused her.

She stared at it, then shook her head and stood, pawing at her nose with a hoof. "What was that?!" she asked, alarmed.

More importantly--had it been deliberate? Was the lizard, like--evil, or something?!

What came next was a true assault on his senses! The little thing recoiled and he was glad for that, but it was the sound! The sound! This eruption of ear-splitting sharpness, lancing across Saul's awareness; he might not have had proper ears but he could hear, and he was sensitive. The sound was too high-pitched and the creature must have done it on purpose!

The lizard let out a hiss when he felt the pain in his head, drawing backwards almost like a mirror-image to the other creature, in to the ferns where he flattened down and made himself small. His bow-legs did not permit him to do what he'd wanted: to cover his face.

"NNnnnaaah!" The gembound shrieked, his voice a fluctuating squeak.

She stayed seated, baffled, as her magic faded. Baffled--and a little uncertain.

Was the stranger saying--no, it wasn't a snake? Or was it a--a 'nah?' Whatever the case, it seemed like whatever she did was eliciting more bad reactions, so--for lack of a better idea--Acheron just went very still.

And very quiet.

She sat with eyes wide and ears back, paws neatly in place, and stared at the seemingly shrinking lizard.

Then Acheron just... waited, not sure what to do next. Maybe the lizard would give her some hint as to how to proceed but for now, the puppy-fawn was clueless!

The sound faded. The pain, too. The lizard slowly opened his eyes and stared at the tucked-together paws of the creature before him. They looked as perplexed as he felt. Thankfully, the lizard was too new to the caves - and to life - to think clearly about anything, even as the pain dwindled. Any kid could bounce-back after an accident, and as this was the first time this headache had been forced upon him, he didn't know what to do or think.

Sure, it was unpleasant, but it hadn't lasted long. And now the acheron had shrunken back. There was a chance to come after the lizard and the goatling wasn't taking it. This earned a point in the gembound's favor, on some level.

There was silence; beautiful, cleansing silence. The lizard slowly lifted its head and chest off the soil, his nostrils flaring as he takes in the smell of the creature. As he deliberates on what to do, if there is any safe course of action at all.

"At-huron?" He couldn't quite make the ch sound, but for a first try it wasn't half bad.

Her patience--and quiet, and stillness--were rewarded. It was a lesson for the pup-fawn--in fact, a few. Lesson one: personal space. Don't sniff strangers, she told herself, a stern note for the future. At least... not that close. Because apparently, sometimes, they stung! The other lessons were along a similar vein: that not everyone appreciated bouncing energy and loud greetings. Maybe she'd scared the little guy-? She wasn't sure, but now she was careful to stay more still, remaining seated in the leaves. She didn't realize he was taking in her scent--an odor that was probably one of leaves, of warm puppy and of fur.

It took her a moment to realize that Saul was trying to say her name; her ears swept forward, pointed and attentive. "Acheron! -Yes!" she answered, and then hastily lowered her voice. "Acheron! Sorry, did I scare you?" and then she 'pawed' again at her nose with the inside of one hoofed forelimb. "Was that magic?"

Despite the lessons, and though she was keeping her voice down, it didn't occur to her that maybe her barrage of questions might be overwhelming.

"What's your name?" she followed up with, blinking to the lizard.

She hadn't made any friends, yet, not outside her family; she wondered what this stranger might be like.