As it happened, Aure was hot on the trail of the same wretched little creature as the stranger. Some few days ago, he'd left a rotten carcass by some boulders. Within the hour, the Lessers found it and picked it clean to the bone. Stragglers - smaller and weaker cave rats - came by in the subsequent days, chomping down on what marrow they could find. While the bones still reeked of rat, they didn't seem to care too much. Rather than chance it with swarms of massive rats, the hybrid often waited for those last few rats. Even as diminutive scavengers, they were fairly decent meals for at least two Gembound with some leftovers for future bait. Not a bit of it would go to waste, not even the shit-tubes.

Anyways - hunting.

Moving quietly on broad wings, crimson eyes focused on the rat - from an angle opposite of a possibly unsuspecting Desert Rose. It wasn't as if the rodent were more visible from here. No, it was simply knowing that it was there and spending less time on pouncing quietly. If he were to, per chance, electrocute the creature, it would already be dead the moment he descended upon it. A quick death, if it landed properly.

Swooping low, talons out, and more aggressively proactive about hunting, Aure snapped his wings out. Magicka buzzing wild across his skin and leaking from his feathers, a near-blinding arc of lightning shot from his being and at the rat. The poor thing never had a chance. It was smoldering to the touch as he descended upon it, wings flapping. There was absolutely no movement from it; but, for good measure, the wyvern leaned down and quickly snipped at its neck clean-through.

His head was still down by the time a voice hit his brain cell. Aure jerked up abruptly, wing rising to still his beating heart. A bit like a mother who's been spooked by someone merely existing. "Ah!" Crimson eyes darted towards the fox-dragon, tensing up to flee if the little thing geared up to fight him for this rat. For all intents and purposes, it could have been a child. Yes, there was a developed voice but... one can never be too sure. "Sorry, you scared me," he stated, plainly. Obvious.

Bowing his head quickly, he chirped, "ah, thank you but -" Aure lowered his head further, quickly working at the rat's midsection to separate it into two halves.

A quarter of the way into the process, he assured, "I didn't mean to steal this from you. Here, there's plenty for the both of us." With a bit more fervor, the wyvern continued to carve into the rodent. With a pop of ligaments and quick snip of entrails (and spill of internal goos) he nudged the front half towards the stranger. He stepped away from the growing puddle of decay, dragging the rear to a slightly cleaner spot among the bones. By now, the corpse had a slightly smoky odor. Perhaps a disadvantage to using electricity against Lessers. Cooking was overrated.

"I'm Aure - Bone King, of the Bonebound," he introduced himself briefly, dignified with a scrap of meat wedged halfway into his beak and titles that might just be useless to this unfamiliar fellow.

Well, it only seemed fair that they scared each other. For every action, an equal and opposite reaction, as the saying might go. Aure flicked an ear, mildly confused by the strange reaction to what seemed to be a simple kindness, but he rather quickly (and somewhat accurately) attributed to simply being unfamiliar with it. A poor upbringing? Poor kid. "Oh, there certainly are - but, still." It was a whole thing that he didn't particularly feel at will to explain right this second.

Hearing a strange designation made the hybrid react similarly to this stranger. He'd heard a gemstone and sequence of numbers only in reference to the older Gembound, those especially involved in the Trial. The Trial that killed Vin - Aure furrowed his brows (they'd raised in slight shock for a moment) and looked down at his half-rat. Not this second. Keep at it; "ever since I was born. I usually eat rats - and leave whatever I can't eat by their nests. They aren't picky when it comes to scavenging. It makes sure they stay in one place and that they're available, y'know? And that they aren't trying to eat the bones of old Greaters."

For as barren as Canis was, it was good hunting. The cave rat population always seemed steady and kept to itself when adequately fed (with their own kind.) Desert seemed unfamiliar with this cave, at least.

Good food population management was a bit pastoral for this day and age - hands-free and full of plain old animals with... no hands. Really, Aure did it because his mother had taught him this, and it made sense. Why hunt cave rats to extinction when he could simply leave them be and let them feast on the remains of their own? Again, it was better than letting them get after the bones of rebels and failures (which, of course, he was aware of and had come to terms with in the past few cycles.)

"Ah, I know," he started, momentarily pushing his rat away from himself, "it makes sense. There's not that many heroes in these caves. There never really have been, from what I know." The wyvern ventured on an assumption, linking strange designation to Overseer, "your Overseer's already told me that these are the bones of 'rebels' and 'failures' and anything deemed 'weak and unworthy.' I've known for a while." Aure's words weren't harsh, but simple statements. Building up to his point.

The point being: "they're Gembound, just the same as you and I. I'm not aware of how the caves were in the distant past, but - once you take away all of the muscle and flesh of whatever's happened, you'll find that we're all just creatures trying to survive. You've gotta find some way to do it. Why not care for the remains when they fought tooth and nail to live? To see another day where they breathe and walk and love?"

It was a bit poetic, but there was heart in it. "My father believed that we're truly bound to our bones. When the gem leaves and goes on to become another life - like me - and the flesh disappears into the earth, bones tell our story." Marrowsight proved that, at least.

Aure sighed despite this, and set back to eating his rat, tacking on belatedly, "but you can think what you will. However you're dealt with, I hope it makes your bones happy." Cryptic. Kinda horrifying. Thanks, buddy.

Some, indeed, could have fought to snarl, pounce, and kill - all things needed for predators to survive, come out on top. As was the nature of being carnivorous. But, Desert seemed to imply that these predators went beyond simple survival. They went to measures of greed, avarice, corruption. Worst of the worst, these survivors took hold and ruled with wrought-iron strength. It wasn't exactly, though, the antithesis the fox-dragon had been aiming for; or, at least how Aure interpreted it. "That may very well be," he murmured simply. To each their own, as long as they didn't push it.

Out of curiosity (and mirroring Desert's) the wyvern's head darted forwards, snatching up the femur and magicka working at it quietly. "One moment." He'd only peer into it for a moment, a quick glimpse into the bone's past - if it would allow him - and hum softly.

Not a moment too late came the baggage, running around and around on the return belt. Crimson eyes slipped closed for a moment. A sigh, less out of solidarity, and more out of nostalgia for something he never was able to have. It was a bit selfish, knowing that he was with a family that loved him regardless of paternal status, yet - he couldn't help but wonder. Wonder if things could be different. If old Aza'zel hadn't given up the ghost, if young Eythan hadn't driven the man over the edge - into what he thought was a peaceful end.

"I did not," Aure tapped at a bone beneath him, the hollow sound echoing and tumbling through his feathers. "I'm the result of life given to his stone." Crimson eyes glanced upward at carnotaurus-like ridges he couldn't see. "He's been dead for a long time." Perhaps not as long as this old being might perceive, but the old King would always be dead for longer than Aure had been alive.