Cancer's den had inadvertently become Fisher's den. Everyone had left, some more violently than others, leaving him in the numbingly loud roar of the waterfall, all alone. He had left his cubby hole to find Bevy, but had since returned. He kept to himself, not daring to run into Leon or Makyna or anyone else enough to leave. He just wanted to hide until he felt better.

The pitohui bird had done a wonderful job of patching him up again, and so he kept to himself. It was peaceful enough, as long as he didn't let his thoughts wander too much he was happy enough. Bored, certainly, but he felt safe here even after nearly being crushed by a massive grizzly. No one came into bother him, probably because Cancer wasn't home and everyone knew it. This was where he slept, so with Cancer gone, no one had any reason to be here. He stretched out, sticking close to the hole in the den where he hid during the fight, ready to scramble into hiding if anything dangerous came at him.

Not that anything had. No one even knew he was here, except maybe for Makyna and Bevy. That suited him just fine. He snorted, his tail twitching as he rested for a while. His stomach grumbled, but the kind bird had offered him lots of tasty berries and bugs. Not the most filling, but it was better than nothing. He could hold off on getting food for a while. Hunger wouldn't kill him like running into someone would. For right now, quartz stars above, he just wanted to rest and be left alone.

So when a sound of a small stone getting kicked across the smooth slate that Pisces was practically known for hit his ears, his fur puffed up like a toilet plunger and he bolted to his feet, feeling a familiar surge of pain in his side.

"Who's't? Who's there?"

The sound that the fisher had heard had indeed been a small stone. But it had been caused by the slight rocking of a giant hematite chrysalis. The hollow rock, which held a very depressed horse within its shell, rocked again, this time harder. There was a pause. And then it rocked so hard that it fell onto it’s side and cracked. Finally, a black hoof shoved its way out into the world, followed by a black leg. For a few seconds, nothing else happened. And then, there was the sound of whinnying from inside the chrysalis, and the whole thing shattered. A very confused and frightened juvenile horse lay splayed out on the ground, and then quickly righted itself and stood up. The boy stood on shaky legs, having never stood before. His black eyes looked around the wet room with fear and disdain. He had been so desperate to get out of the dark cramped chrysalis, and now he wanted nothing more than to go back in. But it was too late. He was awake. He was out in the world now…

The boy let out a chuff, stamping his hooves on the floor and making quite a racket. Suddenly, he felt the crackle of electricity travel up his body. He couldn’t decide if the sensation was cold or hot. He just knew it felt… incredible! But it also hurt a little bit. His hair was now standing on end, charged with a small amount of static. It felt uncomfortable and he didn’t know what to do with it. Some instinct told him the only way to get rid of the feeling was to touch something… But what? The wall, maybe? Or a rock? He clip-clopped over to the nearest rock, the same pebble that had gone skittering across the floor earlier from all of his trashing inside his chrysalis, bent down, and placed his nose against the surface. With a whinny, he jumped back when the release of the static gave a small shock to his soft muzzle. He didn’t like it!

An interesting fact that would go to Fisher's grave: He was rather afraid of hoofbeasts. So when, out of no where, a horrible fawn came whining out from a chrysalis, he didn't bristling, his dark brown fur puffed out to its fullest.

"Woah, hey!" He barked shortly as the poor thing zapped itself a rock. The rather tall-- it was a baby but still probably large enough that he didn't want it stepping on him-- horse had zapped a rock with his nose. He remembered his very first friend, Tamelyn, out in the foggy world of Cetus.

Shivering, he stepped forward, eyes focused on the horse's muzzle instead of the sharp, loud hooves. "Careful now, lil' one. The zapping isn't good, you hear? It hurts. Just stay calm, try not to do any more of that, alright?"

Doing his best, he tried to calm the newborn's racing heart. It would surely calm the beast down, and perhaps keep him from doing it anymore. He smiled, giving a gentle wag of his tail as he stepped a bit closer. Little did he know that his tiny zap would not slow the baby's heart, but only make it race more-- perhaps spook it even. He had no idea of his horrible mistake, at least not until the newborn gembound reacted.

"I'm Fisher, you got a name, lil' one?"

Törnen calmed himself for a few seconds, noticing the little brown furry thing below him. He blinked at it. It said things to him that he didn’t understand. And then suddenly his heart was pounding in his chest so hard he thought it would explode! He let out a scared whinny, wondering why his heart, which had just begun to calm down, was now going haywire all over again! He pranced around, the fisher forgotten for now, tossing his head back and lifting onto his back hooves to stomp the ground when he came down again.

And then the static came back. It arced across his body just like it had a minute or two before. Except now it was worse! It shocked him here and there – not badly, for the voltage was so low, but definitely enough to feel it. Except this time he didn’t want to touch anything. He didn’t want to feel the shock again! He just wanted it to go away by itself! Why wouldn’t the feeling leave on its own? It was driving him crazy! He began running in circles, and zigzagging here and there, like an animal with rabies, or one caught in a thunderstorm.

After a few minutes, he tired himself out, and slowed to a halt, until he stood tiredly in front of the furry weasel thing. He stared at it, as if it might have the answers to all of his problems. Why was life already so difficult?

"Shoot-- shoot, I'm sorry!" The fisher barked, his fur puffing up as he scrambled back. Had he failed to even cast the easiest spell he had? Was that why Cancer had yelled at him? Was his magic all absolutely shot to hell now? His coat bristled with fear, his anxiety swirling in his chest. How had he failed, how had he messed up so absolutely?

Eventually the sharp hooved beast grew tired of trampling around and scaring him half to death and drew still in front of him, his eyes locked on the tiny mustelid's injured form. "I'm s-sorry," he told the horse, his voice weak, rasping even. He didn't know how to help. He was a failure and everything he touched only was made worse. He backed away from the fawn, scared that if he dared to anything it would only...

His copper eyes tore away, his tail curling around his scar matted flesh. "You should go. You shouldn't stay around me. I'm too dangerous," he told the baby, having a feeling that since it hadn't talked yet that it was one of the slower gembounds to take to speech and probably didn't understand him. In fact, having the horrible black beast of sharp feet only reminded him of his soft, huge barkfriend Black...