Oliver was only passing through, but when he did so, he often made a stop near the Spire. There was so much history, here, and sometimes he'd just sit and stare up at the glowing rock, and think about it: past events of the caves, past personal incidents that had touched him more directly.

He was sort of hobbling, and not at all quiet as he approached: three limbs shuffling along the rock, and a clumsily-woven basket hung over one feathered forelimb's wrist. This was empty; he'd been heading to Pegasus, hoping to have a closer look over some of the plants there, to see what might fit back in Canis.

Oh-... But the Spire wasn't empty, today. That was okay--in fact, that was nice. Oliver liked meeting new people. He couldn't remember if he'd seen this one before, but his memory wasn't exactly the most keen; he lived day-to-day, sweetly friendly more than sharply attentive.

"Oh--hey," he called over, drawing up a little distance off. He didn't want to scare the stranger. "I'm Oliver--I'm not interrupting, am I? -Your fur's really pretty," he added, and it was a note of genuine admiration, with a sort of innocent gentleness to it, rather than some weird declaration of intent to steal Forgraves's pelt or something.

Oliver noticed, then, what he took to be possible melancholy: the way the fox had been laying, head low. Concern flickered up in him. "Um--are you okay?" he asked, and hesitated; maybe it was nothing. He didn't want to be a bother.

Oliver beamed at the compliment--he didn't smile, exactly, but it was there in the straightening back, the lifting of tufted ears, the happy expression that crossed his face. Just words, but they clearly had an immediate impact.

"Oh, thanks!" (Nobody'd ever really complimented him before, either, it seemed.) Carefully, he drew a little closer; he didn't impose on Forgraves's personal space, but he didn't hang twenty feet away awkwardly shouting, either. He came up to a few feet off, carefully setting down his empty basket and settling himself on the rock with a slight huff. "It's nice to meet you too! Forgraves is a pretty cool name--does it mean anything?" he asked, with an openly curious glance the fox's way. His voice was soft, eyes round with interest.

Oh. Missing family. The bird-dog sagged, a little, sympathy crossing his features openly, evident too in his voice. "I know what you mean--about missing family. I'm sorry," and he was going to go on, but hesitated. He couldn't exactly ask if Forgraves's family was dead, or something. If the answer was "yes" that wouldn't go anywhere, so instead, he offered a more tentative, "If you wanna talk about it at all--I mean I know we just met, but I try to be a good listener."

Forgraves's question had him turning, peering up at the Spire. He lifted foreclaws, brushing his feathers into place absently. "Me?--Um, passing through, mainly. Going to get some seeds for a garden," he explained, looking earnestly back to the white fox. "But I pass through here a lot. I stop and look at it sometimes, you know? -I think a lot of people do. It's... pretty impressive, huh?" and he squinted back up at the tallest point.

On the topic of names, Oliver laughed. "Me, too. I mean--mine doesn't mean anything, either, I think. Yours is a good name, though," he added, though he didn't explain by what measure he had judged it.

And on the topic of family, he gave a little wince, and his voice dropped to a near murmur. "Ahh, I'm sorry. That's sad--it must be kinda frustrating not being able to run into them. The caves are pretty big, yeah..."

Ahh, but on to gardens. Oliver's ear-tufts pricked back up, eyes widening as he listened; by the times Forgraves finished--and apologized--Oliver was sitting bolt-upright and rapt. "Huh? No, don't--apologize, tell me more!" he blurted, enthusiastic and seemingly deeply invested in Forgraves's explanation. "I'm a medic, too! And I grow plants! -I already said that, uhh--I mean. It's interesting? You said it's in Pegasus? I didn't even know plants could do that, and I've always grown them," Oliver said, in a tone of surprise. "I mean--I grow 'em for food, and uh, bandages and--stitching? Kinda? I mean, I use magic to make them close wounds, but painkillers... That's so cool?" His words came in a rush, as intensely interested as Forgraves had been. "Can you--I mean, if it's not too much to ask--can you describe some of 'em for me? Oh--do they have seeds? I'd love to learn about them!" Blue eyes blinked, and he remembered himself, much as the fox had done moments prior. "Oh! And if you ever want a hand, um--not that plants aren't enough, or anything? But if you need magic-medic stuff too," (how very scientific he was) "I'm happy to help! It's... really tiring but I can make wounds mostly close and um, cleanse infection and stuff. Oh--do you make lights for your plants?" he added, scooting a few inches closer as his words came out in a rush. "I guess Pegasus doesn't need it--how'd you find out how they all work?" His voice was full of awe.

This was a game-changer, really; Oliver'd never thought to use plants that way, and the possibilities now opening before him held him nearly captive with curiosity.

Oliver listened to the entire long speech with both eager fascination, and happiness--not for himself, but for Forgraves. The fox had morphed entirely, it seemed: from slightly morose and a little... nervous? Upset?--to incredibly bright and enthusiastic, himself.

In wide-eyed silence he listened to the tale of stepping on a prickly plant, his eyes straying down to the fox's paws. The method of trial and error sounded fascinating to him, though he blinked a little at the idea of using Lessers for experiments--not that it was necessarily cruel; maybe it was just medicine? He hoped, at least. "It doesn't hurt them, does it?" was his only interjection, and that at a murmur.

The description of the flask had his eyes popping even wider. It sounded amazing, to him, though he wondered why Forgraves regretted it. He'd heard his own rumors about the Collector, of course; but what had he asked in return for this gift? It almost sounded too good to be true, really. When Forgraves finished, he blinked--taken from his own thoughts--and hastened to reassure him. "Crazy?! No, that's so--good! There's so many times my magic's failed that I'd have loved to have something like this! And like--I have no magic for helping with pain, only the injuries so that's really helpful. Or helping someone sleep-?" he added, and quickly shook his head. "It sounds great! If you ever do need magic--before I forget to tell you--I'm uh, usually around... Canis, in the grove there. I grew it! Or in Eridanus and so on. There's some plants I check in on in Monoceros, too, but they're mostly okay, I think." He paused, and blinked. "Oh! If you ever want to see how I grew my gardens, maybe we can like--teach each other tricks? I had to purify water, and like--form water--so they had something to drink. And make lights--like, uh--let's see if I can..." He squinted, and peered upward for a moment--but nothing came, and the bird-dog gave a little laugh. "See, that's why having a non-magic way is good! Smart. Because magic's kind of uhh... unreliable," and his tone, and mischievous squint, made it sound like he was finding a better word than something a little more rude, like, perhaps, "shitty."

"Can I ask why you regret getting that thing? It sounds amazing; I'm wondering if there's more," he added, nodding to it.

He thought, for a moment, squinting as he studied Forgraves, his bird-dog head cocked to one side. "Hey, have you thought about... recording all this? Like-... I know this sounds weird--bear with me! But maybe... carving or... painting on a wall? Like, you could draw the plant, and maybe its seeds, and then underneath it mark what it does? So other medics can learn from it? You could even put a picture of yourself under, to say who did it all!" he added, enthusiasm sweeping his tone higher in pitch. "Unless you've already done something like that?" His eyes were bright--this was such new and interesting stuff, with such possibilities coming to mind!

His intent listening became studious, brow drawing down as he did his best to commit everything Forgraves spoke of to memory.

From his explanation of looking at a plant's basic appearance, to observing its effects on various Lessers, to noting that it might affect different creatures in different ways: Forgrave was covering a lot, and it was all really useful stuff. So how stuff looks, how things react--but that still might not show everything, he noted to himself, nodding along. But if it kills something, it'll probably kill everything. Okay. Noted! Forgraves's assertion that 'magic doesn't do everything' earned an amused snort and a nod of agreement from the bird-dog. It really did fail, sometimes, and there was so much it couldn't do--stuff it sounded like Forgraves had gotten down!

Oliver was realizing, too, that he'd somewhat underestimated the little fox--or, at least, misread him. Maybe it was that he was smaller, pale, and had looked sad--but somehow, Oliver had pictured him as quiet, even timid. What he was proving to be was outgoing and quite intelligent, and Oliver immediately found himself admiring the smaller Gembound. "You've put a lot of work into this," he observed, his tone displaying every bit of that admiration.

"Oh, your Dad lives there?" Oliver asked, perking up. He briefly struggled with his own memories, his own father, and pushed that back for now. "Maybe I know him? But yeah--you're welcome to visit any time! We can both grow stuff there, if you want! In my garden? Or--wherever," he added, amiable and happy. "And yeah! There was--a fire, in Eridanus, a long time ago. And at the time none of the other caves were really, uh--green? Like, nowhere else had plants, aside from Cetus and that's mostly dark, smelly swamp. Pegasus hadn't been opened yet," he explained. "So I figured if there was another big fire--'cause that one hadn't even been the first--we might lose all the plants. And then lots of plant-eating Gembound would have nothing to eat, too, like-... Everything might die. So I started taking lots of good dirt--the smelly stuff!--into Canis, basket by basket. And there's water there but it's like... gross? Slimy, metallic, stale. So I used magic to fix it, but that was pretty awful--it kept backfiring, and black stuff would come out, but in the end I got it. I made light, and heat--I can make a whole cave like, daylight, if I need to. Then little plants, then once they were all there, big ones--ivy, ferns, fruit bushes, even trees!" Oliver paused, and took a gasping breath--he'd gotten too excited, and ran about three sentences without breathing in. He looked quite happy, and even a little proud of himself, at the compliments Forgraves was offering. "But the gardens are for everyone, so you can come by! Maybe we can visit your Dad," he offered.

He considered the rest of what Forgraves had said. About teamwork; about marking his findings, and about the Collector. He chose to address the last one first--because it was the easiest and, in his mind, maybe the most urgent. Canine-like face was abruptly concerned, eyes widened once again. "Oooh. The pile's for, um... Aquarian. The Children of Rot--they're a group, there--my Mom's with them--they catch food and lay it out for him at the water's edge. He's a Master, and they say some of the Children of Rot are his kids. I don't know if that's true," he added, in a slightly quieter, more conspiratorial tone--Dragon and his ilk hadn't ever looked much like the giant sea serpent to him. "But I wonder what he had you put on it..? I've heard he's, um. A little 'off.' The Collector, I mean. So--it's interesting but I'd have to think about it. Thanks for the warning," he added. He debated, too--should he ask his Mom; find out if anything had come of it? Assuming she wasn't sleeping again, of course. "Can I ask about how long ago that was?" he asked, as an afterthought--if it'd been very recent, maybe there was still time to warn them. "He sounds horrible. But I don't think it's your fault, like--don't feel bad--you didn't know?" he pointed out, worried and reasonable all at once.

"Anyway, uhh--I'm more than happy to help you move stuff! You've done incredible work--I don't think I've ever heard of anyone doing stuff like this before. I can help you move plants and seeds, make water and lights, if you ever need. And uh... I wonder--Let me just try something."

Oliver looked down, studying the rock beneath his clawed feet, for a moment. He could make rocks glow--but could he refine that glow? He'd never tried to, before; but if he could make specific markings, well--it'd be real hard for someone to wash that away.

It didn't work--and he was disappointed, to say the least; nothing at all game. He sighed a little heavily. "I keep trying magic, but it just doesn't wanna come," he lamented softly. "I'll try again in a second but I'm thinking--for markings? I have magic that can make rocks glow. Maybe I can make glowing symbols? This way, it wouldn't get lost, or wiped off," he explained--and looked to Forgraves hopefully--as if really hoping this might be helpful.