For cycles now Waker had been a wanderer, an apprentice on a lengthy educational trip throughout the sprawling cavern system, far out of earshot from the rough-voiced but kind instruction of her Shaper guardians. Used to an ever-changing landscape and weather crafted by magic, many green eyes might not have perceived the rooms she passed through with the ordinary awe of the typical Gembound, but they were surveyed with a healthy heaping of respect belonging to an architect in training. She admired the work that must've gone into the myriad biomes, each aesthetic presented wholly distinct from the rest. Most of all, she marveled at any evidence of living she encountered, whether the dens of Lessers or the ruins of those whose bones were long buried and flesh decayed away.

Jackal face curtained and concealed by dark, muscular tentacles, she crept along the well-worn pathway built into the cliffside overlooking this tunnel's winding river. Silent other than the occasional soft snuffle of a hidden nose, the unusual hybrid explored. Suckered limbs picked every so often at the rope fencing, giving it a gentle tug to test its sturdiness as much as guide her along the riverwalk, sight so obscured by the unfortunate arrangement of limbs and head she'd been born with. When at last she'd been satisfied by her examination, the creature drifted closer to the woodland side of the path, quickly noting that, every so many steps, she collided against solid stone formations.

These, she noted, were all shaped similarly despite the mild variations in texture felt out. Presumably they'd been crafted for the same function. Each seemed crafted out of the cliff as much as the walkway had been, carved until separate rectangular prisms emerged. A section had been cut out of each, too, creating a space to possibly sit on as well as a surface to rest one's back against.

A chair, she mused, reminded of the furniture her home's barracks had possessed. However, these lacked the qualifying legs to consider them such. Curious, but she supposed it made sense. They appeared to have been built for utility only, convenient spots to allow one's legs to recover from a walk. No need then to include the ability to transport them elsewhere.

Waker continued onto the next in the long line of structures built into the cliff, jaw slightly ajar as she inhaled the scents of the forest and river. But a closer smell wafted toward her also, drifting into her mouth and tickling at nostrils. It was quite foreign from whatever wildlife she'd sensed much earlier in her journey. Interest piqued by the strangeness, she followed it to the source. Still blinded by the limbs shrouding her face, beside what her nose informed her of, only the sound of even breathing alerted Waker to the presence she'd crawled near. A pause ensued as she considered how best to greet the unknown being. Slowly, hesitantly, a tentacle reached out and prodded at the young quoll's flank.

The creature shifted beneath her prodding limb. Waker's ears twitched as hearing, even mildly hampered by the tentacles concealing her, detected the telltale signs of the stranger awakening. Awkward and uncertain, the unusual hybrid stood there, listening to the sound of this other being gaining her bearings after sleep. Then a low whine of confusion bubbled up from lips when light pressure settled onto the tentacle that she'd poked with.

Was this a greeting back? She supposed it could be. Certainly when she'd lived with the Shapers, they'd welcomed each other's presence with coarse language and hard slaps on the shoulder, a show of camaraderie through an exchange of words and physical touch. But in that single example the difference lay: this wasn't her family, and therefore she hadn't the faintest clue how to proceed. What would a stranger expect from her in response?

As anxiety mounted, the tentacles unoccupied by someone's paws on top of them wiggled a little, their tips rhythmically slapping the ground. Waker sucked in an apprehensive breath before carefully trying to pull away the one tentacle she'd reached out with. She leaned back until her mantle and the useless hindquarters attached to it flopped into a resting position, allowing her head to no longer be forced to stare at the floor. Once granted this freedom, she thrust her snout through the mass of tentacles surrounding her, at last better able to look at the other Gembound.

Bright green eyes blinked, readjusting to the presence of light as well as regarding the quoll with a sense of wonder. The difference between them in size was unmistakably stark. Born late alongside her siblings, she'd never had the opportunity to experience life consciously at a more juvenile stage, her entire development into adulthood spent within her chrysalis. Add on how isolated her life had been thus far, and witnessing an actual child ended up quite the novelty for her.

Slowly, jaws peeled open to reveal numerous rows of sharp teeth. "You're smaller than most of my meals," rasped Waker, the obvious pointed out in poor wit.

"Rock?" the misshapen hybrid repeated, confusion tilting her head. The child had clearly pointed out their size difference with the first couple of words, opposites that they were, but now she was lost. What relation did anything mineral have to do with either of them, let alone her?

She turned a tentacle inward and pointed it at herself. "I... am not a rock? No?" And perhaps she would've ventured further into a puzzled attempt at communication if not for the sudden sensation of cool droplets sprinkling upon her pebbled skin. Ears pressed back against the high pitch of another voice crying out from somewhere behind her, and Waker, not wishing to retreat behind her tentacle curtain again and lose sight of her surroundings, struggled to turn sideways in a vain attempt at catching the source of the unexpected rain shower.

The misunderstanding of her observational remark widened Waker's eyes. Far from the best at explanations, especially not to anyone young, the quick pleading barks she sent into the air probably did little to convince them otherwise of her malicious nature. "Well, uh... Wouldn't they be a little too small for me anyway? Besides, I already ate."

It wouldn't help that, as a carnivore, her last meal had been a deer unfortunate enough to wander away from its herd and into readily grasping tentacles.