Deep, deep, deep in the heart of Cetus, sound smothered by the hum, lay a rock. It was covered in mud and half sunken into the ground. What little sunlight did penetrate through the fog was caught by the gunk that lay in a heavy blanket over the object. To anything but its occupant, it was just another rock, surrounded by dozens of other rocks. Over time, the murky water of the marsh had begun to submerge the boulder, and water lapped at its edges, revealing bits and pieces of a murky gem, like an ocean suspended in time, bits of algae frozen in place... and even deeper inside, beyond the tough shell of the chrysalis, lay a monster.

Of course, nothing is born a monster - or, at least, nothing is born appearing to be a monster. The creature had been inside its egg, waiting, eyes wide open and unseeing, for what felt like months. A tiny snout twitched with every breath, and hooves moved restlessly, too comfortable to leave the safety of the nest but too anxious not to. It might have been as long as weeks, judging by just how much of the rock was underwater. Whether the being inside wasn't ready to be born into the world, or was simply uninterested, wasn't clear - but the rock sat, untouched, only a faint heartbeat giving away its true purpose.

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He wasn't far off from where he'd been born. His own stone, a dull green-black mottled with brown, had been submerged, too, in the murky waters of the Heart of Cetus. And here he returned, often, to hunt, to bask, to swim.

Or to call upon Aquarian, the monster-father-figure that dwelled in the depths of the cold black.

Right now, though, he was looking for the albino cave fish--the ones that tasted so damn good roasted just a little bit. Along with the quiet lapping of water, though, Dragon was hearing something else, today: a quiet tapping, a clicking, almost. Twice he stopped, cocking reptilian head to one side to listen; twice he disregarded it, submerging himself and moving on.

Eventually, though, and rather abruptly, he found its source: a geode at the water's edge. An egg? Like his had been?

The alligator crawled forth from the muck to sniff along its edges, but all he could smell was rot and rock. He could, however--he thought--see a shape within, though it was vague. Perhaps even his imagination. A faint feeling of paternal protectiveness washed over him, followed closely by predatory hunger. Was this something to protect? Or maybe to eat?

He crawled closer, then lay his jaw over the stone, rumbling softly deep in his throat.

It was almost as if the alligator were quietly singing to whoever was within the chrysalis.

Singing, or growling.

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Noise. Something was lurking in the water outside of the Beast's hideaway, peering into the egg with hungry eyes. The creature kicked out and away, trying to burrow deeper into the chrysalis, escape from the reptilian gaze. Predator. A squeal of distress, the noise echoing within the rock, dulled outside of it by the thick walls. Trapped. Desperation made the Gembound squirm, squeals turning into grunts and bitten-off growls.

Then - a thump, and a shadow covered over what little sunlight penetrated the chrysalis. The beast within stilled. Slowly, a hum filled the rock, different from that of Cetus itself. No, this was almost... melodic. The desperate movements and sounds of before began to slow, then stopped completely. It was almost as if the song had soothed the beast into a sort of trance, and its eyes opened and closed lazily, half-asleep already. Safe.

Gentle breathing, and then, a hoof - kicked up towards the shadow, as if trying to communicate with it. Let me out. Its hooves, tiny and fragile, were no match for the heavy agate walls surrounding it, and so the beast lay still, hoping for the singer's help.

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He lay there for but a brief moment when a squeal came, and gone were coherent thoughts. Gone were such things as logic or such niceties as words. Instead instinct took over.

It is an egg.

Dragon listened, for a moment.

It needs help hatching.

His instincts decided upon this without actually forming the words in his mind for it. Alligators made nests; they cared for their young, delicately breaking them out of their eggs if they had trouble hatching. Something about this--a thing hatching at the edge, just where Dragon had been born, of the Heart of Cetus--prompted his instincts like nothing ever had.

The young alligator turned his head to one side, opening his jaws, and almost gently closing them over the geode.

He began to bite down, compressing the crystal's edge with a bite force comparable to pressing a rhinoceros down on a few inches of space. His teeth might crack before the crystal did, but that was okay; he would grow more. No, it was more important to help the young gembound out. With a soft gurgling hiss, he gnawed at it, trying to begin the cracking process so that the youngster inside could break free.

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The hum stopped as abruptly as it began, and the creature within the stone tensed, worried. Had its helper fled so soon? A weak squeal, and then a loud crack! rang out within the egg, as something pierced the outer layers. Yes! The singer hadn't abandoned it, no, they were breaking it free! Energy renewed by a boost of adrenaline, the piglet wildly struck out at the stone walls, hooves slowly but surely chipping away at the already damaged egg.

Finally, with a loud, frustrated grunt, it kicked out with its back legs as hard as possible, hooves punching through the air. That, it seemed, was all the rock could take - and the piece that had been bitten by Dragon fell away with a series of groans and sharp cracks. The beast squealed in fear as, suddenly, its world was invaded by thick fog, streams of sunlight and - singer! Yes, the thing waiting just before the chrysalis had to be the helper.

Slowly, blinking its eyes against the new world, the piglet stood on shaky legs, facing the alligator with a short burst of happy grunts, tiny tail swaying to and fro. The creature was tiny, no more than a few pounds, with delicate legs and hooves that stomped about unsteadily. Its pelt was dark, and dotted with streaks of white and grey. Its brown, watery eyes locked onto Dragon, sniffing at him curiously.

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The alligator slowly blinked as the little piglet tumbled forth, grunting and wiggling its tail. He turned his head to one side so that he could see it, blinking slowly.

This... was not what he had expected.

Instinct dictated that he lift the thing in his jaws and carry it to safety, but logic told him that the tiny creature would not at all see that as, well, good. And so Dragon blinked at it a few times, unsure of what to do. Surely it couldn't understand language, yet? Oh, well, may as well give it a try.

"Hello," he rumbled quietly. "I am Dragon." Normally, perhaps, a new gembound should be offered food, but the first thing Dragon had gone for, upon his own awakening, had been a fight. A fight with something far, far too large for him, and he wasn't really sure what to offer the little thing. If it wanted food, he could bring some... but maybe he could get it to follow him to the meat-pile? There wasn't much in the way of carrion there, at the moment, and what there was was pretty rotten--and he wasn't even sure if the little thing ate meat.

What was it, anyway? Dragon peered more closely.

Bristly. Dark, with pale streaks and spots. Pale brown eyes. Dragon grunted.

"Food? Hungry? Follow."

He slowly turned, dragging himself through the muddy shallows, glancing back to see if the piglet would follow. Maybe it'd even climb on his back or his head, like Eve did; hopefully it wouldn't just stand there. There were plenty of predators in the swamp that would snatch a little thing like that up and eat it.

Even Dragon might have tried, at one point--but his instincts had declared this "family," and so he would feed it. Or try to, anyway.

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The piglet stared up at the huge creature that had freed it, tilting its head this way and that. Dragon. The piglet snorted, tapping its hooves in acknowledgement. It didn't make any moves to respond verbally, however - it appeared it either couldn't or simply didn't need to. Huffing, it scampered back a few steps when the alligator leaned in, trotting in a figure eight before settling back to stare at the reptile, snuffling at him happily.

At the mention of food, the newborn let out a happy squeal, following the alligator as he made his way through the marsh. The murky water reached up to the piglet's belly, and it grunted, waddling through the mud and shooting quick, hesitant glances at Dragon's back. ...boat? After another glance, the piglet made a run for it, hopping up onto the alligator's back and wobbling in place before dropping to his butt with a proud grunt, tiny tusks grinding together contentedly. Boat.

The piglet snuffled, thoughts limited to singular words and hunger. What the alligator said... Dragon. His name? Name... It grunted, trying to hang on to the thought. Name? Did it even have a name? Nothing came immediately to its admittedly primitive brain, but it continued to try, wanting to prove itself to the singer. Churn... Czern.

Well, it was a start.

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Dragon flinched slightly at the feel of tiny hooves running up his back, but it was hardly unexpected. In fact, it made things much easier. He turned, pushing gently off from the shore, cutting over the marsh toward where he kept his admittedly small (for the moment, anyway) store of carrion. Gentle undulations of a thick and powerful tail swept the "boat" forward, taking the boar piglet with him.

He was cautious not to stray too far from shore; should the pig panic, after all, he'd have to catch him in his jaws and he imagined that would be no easy task. Hell, Aquarian might hear the little guy squealing or thrashing about in the water and just surge up and swallow them both whole--and he didn't want that.

He slipped up back into the shallows where the reeds were burnt and flattened, creating a strange dark circle in the surrounding marsh grass. Here there was a depression in the ground that stank of rancid rot, and pooled with strange and foul liquids, as if a vast amount of tissue had been dumped there and left to rot away.

In the center lay half a cave deer, partly eaten and exposed to the elements. Dragon crawled up right alongside this and lowered himself down, laying half in the disgusting juices, waiting to see if this was the sort of food that the boar would like to eat.

"Is this what you eat? Or something else?" he asked, voice still a quiet rumble.

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The tiny boar let out a particularly loud snort when the boat started moving, gliding through the shadowy water with ease. Little tail wagging furiously, the piglet studied Cetus with wide eyes, hindbrain already beginning to claim the place as its own. Pretty. The fog, the mud, the reeds - all of it settled the boar's nervous bones.

Still, it squealed when the boat slid to a stop, the scent of rotting flesh filling its nostrils, eyes immediately pinning on the deer corpse. With a happy grunt as the only answer to Dragon's question, the piglet jumped ship, happily wading into the pool of decomposed skin, decaying organs and bodily fluids. With a wiggle of its tail, the boar stuck its snout near the deer's ribcage, grunting and growling as it tore hunks of skin, hide and muscle from the bones, swallowing the bits whole.

After a few moments of ravenous eating, the pig let out a tiny, satisfied burp, turning back to Dragon and splashing about in the puddle, the fetid juices covering its short black pelt. It grunted at the alligator, as if to invite him to play in the muck with it, before letting out a few squeals and a very, very gravelly word: "Churrrrrrrnobog!"

The success made the boar tap at the ground once again, hooves getting sufficiently covered in mud, bits of flesh and plenty of watery blood.

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Dragon peered at the boar piglet dancing in the bloody muck, tilting his reptilian head ever-so-slightly.

It clearly ate meat; but what else did it need...? What else was he to provide it? He hauled himself closer and then settled down as if to rest there, right there in the fetid rot-pool. After all, if it were a baby alligator, all they'd have to do would be rest there, near the water's edge. They had food, and--oh! Maybe it'd want light, somewhere dry and warm and bright to sun itself?

This seemed the natural course of action, and so Dragon turned his body to face deeper into the marshes of Cetus, off toward the trees and the rocky cliffs beyond.

"Resting-place," he explained in a soft hissing growl, and then tried the thing's... name? Had that been a name? "...Churnobog."

And off he started to plod, one clawed webbed foot in front of the other, pausing to glance back and see if the boar was following him.

Or perhaps preparing to use him as a boat, again.

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