Mercy watched almost lazily as the dragon reached out a set of talons, aiming to snatch up the apatite and claim it as his once and for all. "Ah, yes -" the old lion hummed, as if he'd just forgotten about the rock, "yes, it is yours now. Our first trade for one and a half weeks." Moonset eyes fixated on the smoldering embers set into Dread's face, a weary sternness tracing the furrowed brow.

Alas, the trenches in the floor seemed the most viable option - difficult to access and with water at the bottom. Out of the way of wind, plants may have a chance to root down. Their garden could be made inconspicuous, lest it grow up and out of the Gorge. "If it is a place to hide," Mercurius assured, "we will make it work. This group lives alongside nature - not against it." He appreciated the wary sentiment about the bright coloration with a dry sort of amusement: Rift would stick out like a sore thumb, here.

There was the fact of the bats, though. If sickness was rampant in them, could it be contagious? Spread to the rest of them? Mercurius, at least, knew some magic to deal with such things - and Oliver, too. Arsu was beginning to pick it up, but the young lion-stag had been left at home and in the unfortunate dark. "Would..." the old lion hummed, mid-thought, "would it be considered ample payment if the bats were cured of their sickness? So that they may be your prey, too?"

Hunting and killing were unfortunate facts of life, and while there was magic and the capability to cope with it and find alternatives, Mercurius had learned to not fault those that couldn't a long time ago. He'd been shamed into never using his fangs to draw another's blood - but sometimes he wondered if shame had never been part of it. His pacifism and veganism could run deeper than that, as something instinctive and ingrained in him from the start.

@Dread

Dread's gaze sharpened abruptly on Mercurius, his foot pausing suddenly with the apatite drawn halfway to him. He was about to display an uncharacteristic trait: empathy, or at least pity, of a sort.

"No," he began bluntly, and then--studying the lion closely--"They are too small, now. But if you can fix them, you should. It is not nice to be sick." He remembered, vaguely, the terrible fever--something like pain, but parallel to it, rather than the same. And he remembered the aches, the throbbing in his head, the sensation that he was lingering close to death. It had not been pleasant.

Dread twisted his head to look back toward the Gorge, the apatite now vanishing in his claws beneath his bulk. And he proved himself more helpful, though why was anyone's guess; did he want the Eridanus group to survive to pay him, or was it simply sociable helpfulness..? "There are paths down. One is wide. It is on this side."

The dragon spread his wings, rocking back, and paused--clearly preparing to depart. He said: "If you need me, make fire or shout up toward my den! It is on the ledge high up that way--" (he nodded toward it) "--but tell your friends not to go IN there or to TAKE MY THINGS OR I WILL EAT THEM. I will watch. Is that all?"

It wasn't clear if the "I will watch" was a reassurance, or a threat (it was a reassurance, in fact--but Dread wasn't the best at conversational flow or articulation).

@Mercurius

"Of course -" Mercurius quickly amended, "no creature should have to suffer so." The old lion pushed up onto his feet, a sort of solemn gesture and promise that he'd stay determined; "I'll do my level best, personally, Dread - that I can promise." Perhaps, not every bat could be cured of their illness, but he could do this best - and possibly enlist the aid of others. A collective act of good and consideration. And out of curiosity, he appended, "do you know what they eat?" After all, bats could be carnivorous, insectivorous, herbivorous...

A polite bow of his head followed the guidance - paths would be more efficient than simply tumbling down the side. A wide one could be narrowed by plants and guarded. "Thank you, Dread. I'll take a look," Mercy hummed, moonset eyes fixing one last time. "We won't invade any space that's yours, I promise." Theft and vandalism weren't on the list of priorities the Kingdom had, not at all.

After a long pause, gaze steady to see if Dread had anything more to say, Mercurius pushed up from his haunches and stiffly moved towards the Gorge's edge, looking down into its winding girth.

@Dread
;exit mercy unless stopped

Dread lifted his head, thinking--quickly, if laboriously, searching his memory. He couldn't remember ever having seen the bats eat. Did they catch insects on the wing? Did they eat fish, or find fruit, or sneak carrion in the dark? He had no idea.

"They live in the dark places," Dread said, slowly, "and I think they fly together. But I don't know what they eat." Mercurius seemed to be preparing to depart, though, and Dread's wings were still spread and ready, and so right on the tail end of this knowledge he blurted, "GOODBYE!"

Then the dragon was leaping into the air, massive wings beating their leather-drum thump as he took to the--well, "sky." He spiralled upward, turning, circling, and angled back toward the Gorge. His intent was to circle over it; to double-check that no knowledge he'd just granted Mercurius had somehow changed since last he'd seen it.

But no, the river was still there, and no one had stolen the canyons.

Seeing nothing out of place, and confident in the deal he'd made, he bellowed back over his shoulder. "FIND MY PILE, TOO, AND I WILL TRADE THINGS!"

Business concluded, he headed off toward the Monoceros exit, to guard his hoard again.

exit Dread