Luna busied herself with preparations, keeping the vision of Cassiopeia in the forefront of her mind - rather than the odd, obsessive need to break down every second of the transaction that'd directed her there. Yes, this was the nature of business and the want to be good at it - to dissect every little detail, constructing a conspiracy board complete with a web of red string. But this was stronger, somehow, and she felt as if she were on the precipice of some great revelation.

This did not assist her in her ambitions, so she discarded this train of thought as best she could. She, however, was unable to get the smell of fresh meat out of her nose.

Perhaps when - if - she saw the Collector next, she'd offer him a sprig of mint.

She scoured the bone-piles now, having experienced a brief moment of inspiration - perhaps she could fashion some kind of spear from one of the larger, longer pieces? Fossils clattered around her as she grubbled through, searching for the ideal shape.

She pulled from the mass a long, white bone, perhaps part of an arm or leg. It was a little shorter than she was tall (on two legs, that is), and the perfect size for her plans. Now, should she sharpen it now, or later?

She took a rock the size of her fist from the ground, and began to grind the staff's end. She wasn't intending on using it anytime soon, and the dark throne was abandoned according to her intel - but the remains of the fallen being repurposed, especially for violence... That was a poetry that she couldn't pass up.

She worked gently, unfamiliar with the material and the process - consider it an experiment, of a kind. She had little strength in her fore arms, only enough to carry her own weight if need be, so Luna knew she'd be here for a while. The time alone would give her space to think, to prepare her mind as well as her body.

Consumed by her work, the sound of distant clattering did not immediately draw her attention. Her antennae perked absently, just in case - but the disturbance continued. Louder, closer. She set her tools down, finally, to turn and face its source.

When she finally caught sight of the kitten, Luna smiled. "Oh! Hello!"

She guessed Callista's age from her proportions, all head and paws. She'd adjust her expectations accordingly. "This, is a little idea of mine."

(Luna was fairly certain she wasn't the inventor of the spear. This, however, was not relevant to the conversation.)

"It's not much more than another bone in Canis as it is now, but I hope to make use of it - to sharpen it into a weapon." She gestured with a paw towards the staff, inviting Callista to get a closer look. "I do hope though, that in my coming journey, I will not have to use it."

And, before she forgot. "I'm Luna. And you are?"

Luna watched Callista approach, admiring the richness of her colours in the orb-light for a moment. She hoped that the kitten learned to take care of the coat she'd been blessed with, as Luna had - it'd be a shame to see it smothered in dirt and grime in future cycles.

"Yes, to harm. But primarily to defend!" She gestured widely with a paw as she went, emphasising the importance of her words. "When you are small, you're always in danger. You can feel it-" She pressed that paw to her chest, where her gemstone sat. "Inside. That constant drum... we anticipate the chase. An eternal dance with death."

Luna remembered her situation. "BUT!"

"I am making it in case I find more, ah, tangible threats on the way through... Hmm... Draco, it was? I think?" Maybe she should've asked more questions about where she was headed, and less about the Inevitable Death of Everything she Knew. She had gotten a little distracted, we'll say.

"Plenty of trouble that way, even if my intel indicates the destination is clear. Have you seen Draco before, Callista?' She asked, less as a genuine question (this was clearly a baby) and more of a segue into a spiel - if she took the bait, that is.

My sincerest apologies to Callista. Luna is not great with children - not in any immediate and frightening way. She's more like... a current, or a strong tide. She keeps going, and you can't stop her. You can only try to follow along as best you can, or risk drowning. Though the worst case scenario in this situation would be an awkward conversation and not, y'know, suffocating.

She was not accustomed to adjusting her language and tone for someone else's benefit. Perhaps she'd never learn how - she had just been pretty intensely enabled a few moments ago.

Luna considered the question for a moment. "Well, it depends on your circumstance. When you're our size, something is better than nothing - and considering what lurks in the darker corners of our home, our natural defences might not cut it." She peeled back her lips, retractable teeth emerging from her gums. She tapped on the yellowed enamel in emphasis.

She nodded at Callista's own weapon. "A good start. I'd recommend something with more reach, maybe? You wouldn't want something larger and stronger than you getting close." And if the distance was closed, that was where claws and teeth came in.

"Now, Draco..." She began with a toothy smile (rather than a naturally gummy one), "Is a cave where true monsters lurk. I've watched, admired them afar, as they hunted their quarry in the adjoining caves. I have not been past its entrance. But I've been close enough to see the yawning darkness further onward, and the constant stink of something sour, rotting and wet. It is where nightmares are born."

"And it IS pretty. To me, at least."