Athena Ignis

Everything is hard before it is easy.

After her fight with the red-pelted devil, Athena had left Eridanus behind - for now - to spend her time in peace as her injuries healed. The bleeding scratch on her nose had closed during her travels to Cetus, the bruise on her chest was fading and the bite wound covered by scab. Her shoulder was getting better too, although running was still out of the question and jumps were risky too, the wound having opened before.

Athena's blue eyes turned to look upwards, at the tall tree in the middle of Cetus. The puppy felt so very small underneath the tree's branches and leaves so high above her, it made her think of the day of her emergence in Polaris. The dragon there had been large too, looming over her and so very close to killing her - she'd only recently become aware of the grave danger she'd been in and the fact that without the three other gembounds coming to her and Winter Snow's rescue, the two canine's would've ended up dead.

The Alaskan Malamute was very thankful for that but didn't know where to find her saviors to thank them. For now, she couldn't travel far anyway and was content with staying in the mist-filled forest of Cetus, giving herself time to heal.


"Listen to me."

Ghanyarah's days had, unfortunately, been rather busy. He spent a lot of them training, either by himself or with Dragon; that, or he'd try and venture out of Cetus to explore the rest of the cave. There were still a bunch of rooms he didn't know much about, and tunnels, too. But they hosted an array of Gembounds that Ghanyarah wasn't certain he'd want to tango with. Especially Polaris. He'd caught wind of the dragon, and he was not looking forward to the day that Dragon would summon him to go fight it. There were few times when he actually got to relax, but this was one of them. In fact, Ghanyarah was more than eager to relax, for very good reason.

The shard he'd buried in the soil in the little divet of the tree trunk was beginning to sprout more shards, as if completely negating his attempts to keep it hidden. He couldn't wrap his head around why it was doing that; the shard on his head didn't grow (at least not like this), so why was this severed shard suddenly beginning to sprout more pink points? They poked up through the soil, gleaming against the diffused light and occasionally catching his eye. He'd grown awfully protective of it, despite not truly knowing why it did the things it did. The owl must have cursed it or something. Well, whatever; it was his, and he'd do with it what he wanted, even if that meant planting it and growing a pretty shard-tree.

Right now, Ghanyarah was splayed along one of the low-lying branches of his tree. One arm hung over the edge while the other folded up under his head, and his hind legs hung out behind him, tail draped off one side. He was just on the brink of sleep, allowing the sound of the swamp's birdsong to lull him into the void of slumber, and yet... something was moving... Not birds. The komodo dragon cracked an eye open, searching the trees for its source.

@Athena