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”Oh. I meant the secret place. The one full of dead ancient monsters.” and she had such a good flow going - of COURSE she had to ruin it with her clumsy use of the common tongue…

”I am particularly invested in anything that could be described as monstrous - ancient is a modifier that further piques my interest.” However, information on… What did he call it, the nest… that was also of interest to Luna, even if it was less relevant to her current goal.

”HOWEVER. If the gem I’ve provided is sufficient enough for more general history, I would love to hear it.” she clarified, her eagerness to learn more about these caves disrupting her previous air of… professionalism? Sure, that’s what we’ll call it.

”I can find more. If it isn’t.” She added quickly.

"Ahhhhh. I see. My apologies," the Collector purred. Then he eyed Luna for a moment, his hoofed foot still bobbing where one leg crossed the other. "And, no: it is more than enough."

He turned his attention briefly to the stone, lifting it to the light and studying it, before tucking it quietly into his robe: and then he stood.

"Picture it, if you will..." he began, in a tone that indicated great melodrama. He stood, his hands sweeping to the sides. Lights sparked into being, setting a scene: panning, like a camera, across a stretch of what looked like city. There were buildings, and a railway, and flashing lights and signs. There seemed to be some urgency to all of this, with shadows skidding across the rock, as though in a shadowplay: creatures racing past behind the 'camera,' so to speak. "A city, loyal to this nest, filled with its Valkhounds. A rebellion-" (flares of flame, coiling smoke) "-and in a desperate attempt to protect the caves' most important guests... an evacuation. And a fortification: we took down our very walls, we caused landslides to block their approach. Yet... they broke through. Enough of them broke through."

The images changed, showing monsters engaged in combat. Oiled blood splattering over the streets. Monsters rampaging against firelight, hunting rebels; rebels springing out in ambush. A war, in short.

"It was only just before the Rebellion, you see. And this cave has only just opened, and few have visited it, as yet. Search. Find the Dark Throne that none yet have found, and seek the Oilstones still unclaimed. They litter the area," The Collector went on. "As do the chrysalises that were shattered there. Some of their pieces... well. You will see." The image changed again, showing the interior of a vast, abandoned temple, overgrown and lit by Voidlight at one end.

Then the Collector lowered his hands, the images fading. "Were you to head there and seek these stones, I'd imagine you may well be the first. There is also the Prison. It is harder to find, but should you make your way within, there may well be abandoned stones inside. The prisoners were slaughtered, so that none could join the rebellion once it passed through. To be more certain, look for those that are in the shapes of monsters... A large Oilstone claw is likely to be a beast worth admiring," the Collector finished. "Does this help your cause?"

Yay! Yippee! Yay! Luna's tail wiggled in celebration. The loss of the stone paled in comparison to the opportunity that presented itself in its wake - no compromise, no bitter resolution. Everyone wins!

No subtlety now. She was just happy to be here.

The lights returned, reflecting in her dark buggy eyes as she leaned forward towards the mirage, as if this too, was one of her visions. And like these visions, it'd absorbed her completely - her heart raced alongside the shadows, as if she was winding through the conflict herself, through this war that was not her own.

The smoke. The oil. The blood. "I've seen this before." She mused aloud, mostly to herself.

She realised she'd fluffed during the vision, startled by the violence of it all. She smoothed out now, flattening the stubborn tufts with a paw if she had to. The temple, the dark throne - this'd be quite the expedition. She would need to prepare, if only just to give the task the respect it clearly deserved. On that note...

"This cave, is it dangerous? What else should I expect to find there?" And whoops, the dam was breaking. "And - and the Rebellion - what happened? Who and why and what?" Her attention turned, briefly, to the skull she'd left on a rock. "Is it why Canis is... well, full of bones?"

"No," the Collector assured, eyeing Luna and shaking his head. "It has been abandoned ever since. The chrysalises were shattered--quite deliberately, I might add. You needn't concern yourself with specific preparations."

As for the rebellion-... ahh, now that was a tale. He leaned back, taking a breath. "The Rebellion itself is a... long tale. Suffice it to say, enough of the Valkhounds chose freedom over service, denying faith in our Creator. These... clashed. They were hunted by certain Overseers. And yes, some--no, many--of these bones belong to them."

He leaned down, picking one up, turning it in his hand. It had no gemstone; it was just a bone, ancient, worn, and bleached by time.

"There is a beauty in it, don't you think-?" he asked, eyeing it thoughtfully. "To fight for something they believed in, with all their hearts--and then to die and be forgotten, nothing left of their dreams but this." The Collector waggled the bone, then tossed it gently to clatter amongst many others. "It was a disposal site, too. A midden. But many ended their lives here, trapped against Hydra, with no escape. Entire lives lived out, and then forgotten. Names lost to the past." He shrugged, crimson eyes lifting to regard Luna. "There is a beauty to it, no?" he repeated, studying her.

Luna considered the erosion of time, surrounded by the ancient remains of those who had come before. It was always a solemn act to reflect on the dead - to her, at least, and most people.

She was familiar with death by necessity. Those stones had to come from somewhere, didn't they? But she'd yet to experience it directly, obviously, or witness it in person.

And she was still, primarily, an animal. The clatter of the bones sent an involuntary chill down her spine, and a thought echoing faintly in her mind. 'I don't want to die.'

For a wyrm that'd wailed endlessly about doom and gloom, actual doom, the doom awaiting all of them one day, quietened her. Not for long, though. "Yes. I can... See it." Luna began, winding a path through the uncertainty inside her. "Though, one must admit, to be forgotten is... confronting to consider. I suppose it's a fear I'll leave behind, one day. I don't believe the rebels have much of an opinion on the matter now."

Her eyes swept upon them now, the echoes pale and thin. Maybe it was like sleep - death, that is.

Luna's curiousity returned, for a moment. Her magick - her first spell cast - it reached out now, as if to verify the Collector's existence. Would he, too, face the same fate? But it was a question that wouldn't be answered, not by this spell. She instead focused on the rhythm of her own little heart, something she could listen to whenever she desired.

"I can only hope that I make it further than them. That's... Selfish of me, yes? That I think of my life first, and theirs second."

The Collector looked to Luna, somewhat puzzled: perhaps not visible with his hood, but that hood did tilt ever so slightly to one side.

"And why should that be selfish..? Or rather: what is wrong with being selfish? Nothing lasts forever, my dear new friend. We are nothing but bones and dust in the end. There is no greater purpose; there is no meaning to it. And that is... freedom, no?"

His voice took on the faintest smile, his arms spreading wide as if to invite opinion. "That leaves us to find our own meaning, in those little blinks of time we have. If anything, I should think it foolish to dwell on those long gone, at your own expense. I can assure you, they no longer care."

It was necessary, somewhat, to be aware of the forces pulling the world together - and then apart. But it wasn't something Luna was used to holding at the forefront of her mind this long, and with this much focus. Ethics, maybe - but philosophy? That was new.

She was beginning to realise that she'd spent her life feeling very small. Luna lived accordingly - survival first, water, food, safety. And then, and only then, would she dare to dream. The eventual decay of all things she could recognise was outside of her scope. Just a little.

(But she had a friend! Yay! She had acquaintances, but so few friends.)

"It means something to me, then. That they are remembered, carried in some way. We are all products of those that came before us - I wonder, sometimes, what mechanisms led to my own birth, why and how I was separated from my own context." Luna was wall-spawn, created at random. She believed so.

"It feels... Odd. Not wrong, per say. Different?" Perhaps this was its own kind of performance. The one required in order to communicate the internal - a vivisection of the mind.

"When I am bones and dust, I want those who see me to think of what I was, in my moments alive. But I do not return that favour to them." She gestured at the bones piled high. "I see their death, I learn the circumstances, and I cannot help but fear mine."

"There will come a day where no one will care for what I was. What I am, now. That fate does not trouble you, or them, or the dead - but it troubles me." She placed a paw to her chest. Her, Luna, the greater Gembound that stood now in Canis. "It feels like a flaw, in my design or my thinking."

"It is inevitable, yet I still am afraid. Is that not pointless? More so, than to dwell on the past?" To worry about the future instead?

The Collector paused. He'd listened to all that Luna said--without comment--and for a moment he seemed to think about it. Then he held up the little stone she'd given him, and pressed his claws to it. There was a faint flash of pink light, and he studied it for a very long moment. The glow then faded, and he hummed in thought.

"My first instinct is to mock you, as befits my habit, in regard to your desire to remember them. But then," he went on, and black iron appeared from thin air, snaking around the stone. To it, a black cord, and this he raised to clasp around his own neck, before dropping it behind his robe and out of sight. "...I do speak of a beauty in things, and I do so like to remember."

Somehow, this had an incredibly sinister tone to it.

"In any case, no, I do not think that fearing death at least is strange, or pointless. It keeps you alive, by its design. That is why you fear. As for fearing being forgotten-?" He studied her, and then his voice grew quieter. "I, at least, will not mock you for that." He hummed again, claws tapping his arms idly where he'd crossed them over his chest as he thought. "My advice to you-? Embrace your fear. Revel in it. Enjoy it. It's part of your life, after all--the only one you have. It's all part of the experience." One claw came up, in warning. "But by all means... do not let that fear subsume all the fun there is to be had, even in just these caves."

A smile entered his voice as he finished. "And that is enough of my advice freely dispensed. Any more shall cost you."

The silence carried long. Luna let it, in a rare moment of restraint. She thought, or fancied, that the Collector was practicing similar discipline. She watched with some interest as he appeared to create some kind of decor with the stone she'd traded away (and lamented dully on the waste of magic. Reduced to a mere ornament!)

Fear of death was not strange, yes. All life, on some level, shared this feeling. It was logical. But Luna felt like she was supposed to be above it, greater. Perhaps it was her choice in company that provoked this feeling - he certainly had a way of making others feel... Inadequate in comparison. Would she too, reach this level some day?

"Part of the experience, yes. One I wish I could... Opt out of, some days." She said it with humour, but a weariness leaked through her usually whimsical demeanour.

It seems like the strangest conversation of her (short) life was ending. Oh well. "You certainly drive a hard bargain." Luna grinned, yellowed teeth in full view - a sign of respect in her mind.

Okay, no more advice - but maybe just one more question.

"Do you fear?"