The thing that toddled along was having trouble walking. He seemed to be, at first glance, nothing more than a black puppy: a furball, with little tufted ears. On closer inspection, though, those ears were tufted with not fur but a few scraggly feathers, and strange downy fluff and bald dark spines jutted from his oversized forelimbs. Those forelimbs were long, thin and long-fingered, tipped with curved talons that were certainly out of place on the canine body. And the way he looked about him, too, there was a strange birdlike sharpness to it, even with the wide pale puppy eyes that accompanied his gaze.

The birdlike forelimbs were difficult to walk on, and he frequently had to stop, resting on them like a bat leaning on its wings. Perhaps the dog would grow wings, one day; for now they were stubs, and out of balance with the rest of him. His more canine hind legs propelled him forward, and any time he grew excited he'd try to bound forth, only to stumble over his birdlimbs and fall to the ground in a tangle of black fur and feathers.

His mother couldn't help him. She was leading the way, patient, supportive, but she was too small to carry him along. They'd left the swamp; she wanted to consult with someone, show him to someone. Were he a little older he might have worried that something was wrong with him; the crow was nervous around him, though she tried to hide it. At his age, he didn't pick up on this; perhaps he never would. Instead he bumbled along, from the dampness of Cetus and into the freezing ice tunnel that had made him shiver and cower down, then flee from the cold biting ground beneath his feet. From there they'd come to Polaris, and Oliver gazed around at the glowing crystals with awe.

Eve had moved on a bit ahead, and was looking back at him; obediently he tried to catch up, again tumbling down in a heap as he reached her. He stumbled up and wagged his tail--a little finger of a thing, again studded with as-yet unadorned quills--and peered up at her.

Words still didn't come easily to him, but there were some that he knew, and he offered one now--brightly, and with a voice that was half raucous caw, half sharp bark.

"Shinies!" he yip-crowed excitedly, wagging his little tail as he gazed up at his mother.

The white hybrid had only just woken up as the two entered Polaris. Lazily, she lifted her head as her tiny pink tongue lolled out to regard Black - who was lying nearby, watching her as always.

She yapped and squawked all at once in greeting, dragging herself closer to her father to curl into his side contentedly. She could sleep again, if she wanted, but she instead decided what she'd do before she got too tired to do more things.

Maybe she'd stare at the spire, or go find Caravaggio and explore more with him, or maybe she'd go eat some rats, or make new friends. She yawned as she noticed, out from the corner of her eye, a little crow and a bigger dog making their way over.

Bleary-eyed, she looked up at Black quizzically, as if asking him who they were.

The Dog had been resting, albeit with his mind alert to his surroundings. It was as any parent; his eyes were closed, his body asleep, yet at the slightest noise from the young one in his charge, he blearily woke.

Massive head lifted from over large paws and he yawned, tongue curling in his wrinkled face. As he licked his jaws, eyelids fully retracting, he looked down at White and then toward whatever it was that had gotten her attention.

Shifting in place a bit, he peered out. There was--yes, there was a crow, the black crow, hopping and pausing; and by her side, or rather, hurtling along behind her in uncoordinated bursts, a black crow-dog. Instantly, Black felt his heart tugged.

Another one.

He had, quite literally, forgotten. He'd forgotten he'd coughed up a piece of his heart-stone for Eve, forgotten that there was another half, somewhere, to White. And there, perhaps, it was?

With a lick to White's head and a wag of his tail, he stood, then padded closer to Eve to greet them. As they came he regarded the youngster, noting its uncoordinated movements, the earnesty of its naive and innocent gaze, and the childlike tenacity with which it stood again and again after falling.

Again, his tail wagged, and this time he looked to Eve. He stepped aside, looking back and down at White, clearing the way so Eve could see her.

"The other is here," he rumbled, and then padded on past to more closely examine the new black pup.

________________

He was just in the middle of planning how to take his next few steps--intent on Eve's offer of finding shinies, later, and wanting to look around him some more--when his young eyes spotted a dark shape approaching. Beside it was a smaller, white one, and Oliver was immediately torn between curiosity and trepidation.

He paused, one birdlike, tattered foreleg hanging midair, then quietly sat back and looked up at Eve for guidance. It didn't help that the black dog, as it spoke, was huge and rumbling and emotionless, nor that it seemed to then inspect him as if he were a delivery--wait, was his Mom going to leave him here?!

Oliver let out a quiet, yet sharp, cry and looked at Eve wide-eyed.

"Don'tleaveme," he begged abruptly, leaping toward her--and only remembering at the last moment that she was small, and delicate. He managed to twist aside, so that the entire result was that he seemed to simply throw himself sideways at her feet.

With an embarrassed hang of his head he struggled back upright, sitting quietly and eyeing the white thing. She, at least, seemed--harmless? Beautiful, bright and friendly, a blush to her pale coat. It almost seemed that she didn't belong here, didn't belong with all these black dark looming things and rocks and--maybe she belonged with the glow. He eyed her uncertainly, then spoke his mind.

"...Shiny?" he asked, softly. He'd seen shiny rocks and pretty crystals, but never a rare and sparkling living being before.

{Table code credit to Madison, altered a bit!}

She was confused as Black didn't answer her 'question,' instead just licked her head and went off to meet the dark individuals. As she watched the crow, the dog, and the other dog, she tried to come up with a theory as to who they were - especially since her father seemed to know them both.

She supposed that, like Fisher, Black had other friends - or maybe they were even family. Maybe the dog was his brother, and the tiny bird was his mother? Either way, she noticed that the two strangers were beginning to stare at her and she felt slightly uncomfortable.

White slowly shifted and then stood, hobbling up behind her dad. Cautiously, she peered at the tiny bird, noticing how it's feet looked similar to her hind legs, how it didn't have any paws, but instead glossy black wings. She got a little closer, sniffing the bird - causing Eve to squawk and hobble back, half in alarm.

She blinked and then lifted her head towards Oliver, noticing, finally that he also had little wings spouting out from his forelegs. "Daaaaad," she said quietly. "Who are they?"

Black looked first down to his "daughter;" she took precedence, her questions to be answered first. He decided to get that out of the way, so that he could speak to Eve more in-depth, should it be required.

"When the black bird and I met, the dragon had been defeated. This cave lay in ruin and smoke and death. A piece of stone was given; from her to me, and I to her, and new life birthed to take the place of that lost, perhaps. I do not know. But she is the other half of your creation; and the Other-Black, has come from within me as well."

With this neat little speech made, he gently used a large paw to nudge White toward Oliver. They should meet; they were siblings, of a sort. And then he looked to Eve.

"I am Black. Names matter little. White is good," he added, as if declaring the white pup acceptable--in truth, his pride and a brief gleam of joy in his eyes, in the way he straightened himself, seemed to say that he was a proud father, even if he were socially inept with his wording. She was good. She was not a disappointment, thus far; she exceeded expectations.

He looked down at the scraggly black thing again, curious.

"And he?" he asked, sniffing briefly toward Oliver again.

________________

Oliver listened quietly, sitting shly a bit apart. When he noticed the white dog-bird peering at them, questioning--calling the black dog dad, he began to wonder. And then his mother confirmed it: the black dog was his father, and this strange white creature, vibrant with life, his... sibling? Sister?

Slowly he tottered up, pale blue eyes wide, and moved toward her step by unsteady step.

"You're my... sist-er?" he asked, a hitching pause in the last word. He lifted a taloned foot and leaned forward, stumbling, nearly falling before he could pull upright, extending his slender snout out toward hers in curiosity and greeting.

She was beautiful. He wanted to call her his little sister, and immediately felt that he should look after her; she was radiant, a bright thing in a very dark place. Yet she was larger than he, and seemed older, somehow, more confident. Maybe he was the little brother...?

Maybe she's not even nice.

Oliver flinched back, sitting on his haunches, cowered a bit in shy uncertainty once again. What if she was mean?! What would he do then?!

{Table code credit to Madison, altered a bit!}