Khavur wondered where it would find its path's terminus. Which road to take? How long? Where would it lead to? With journeys like these, the most obvious rule was that the destination mattered least. Khavur might have to bend that rule if the destination were a mango though...

Despite not having an answer to that question, directions of many kinds were given. Once again, one head followed the halberd's course while the other remained on the Sentinel. The tunnel forward lead to light and crystals, then beyond that lay a dark place, like Draco. How strange... Stranger was the phrase "Within, the Sentinel's black is white". No idea what that meant, but nevertheless -- beyond that black-white and an echoing stone of some sort? There was the place of bones, and the Seer. Then, backwards and past backwards, was the place of sea and light. Most interesting.

Khavur didn't know what the future held in either place... it supposed that was the job of a Seer. So perhaps it should start there? Lest it become lost... Although the possibility of knowing its own death wasn't very alluring. Khavur had never thought much about death, for it had been too wrapped up in the mystery of its own life. Maybe it could tell the Seer not to say, if need be. And a guide, by the way, didn't have to just be information. Perhaps, for some part of this journey, Khavur could take Chaos-Two.

In fact, there's a concept: go it alone, as a scout would do. Then come back and offer its sibling the chance. Yes... that would delay the finding of the mango, but for a worthwhile reason.

"It thanks the Sentinel yet again. Very helpful... I- hm. I can't quite keep up with the way you speak, but I don't think that will bother you." The Sentinel didn't seem phased by much. A skull was frozen in one expression. "I feel rather animated, Sentinel. I might have to go now, before my legs start walking against my will. I hope you understand." Khavur didn't really know how else to put it. It wasn't afraid or encumbered by the Sentinel's company -- it wasn't trying to run away, I mean. It was just about vibrating with anticipation, the hope of possibility was roped around its heart and tugging. Essentially, it didn't feel like it could stay much longer, even if it wanted to.

"I think I will head for the place of bones first. I plan to go twice. The second time, hopefully, I will have something to tell you about... mangoes."

@The Sentinel

There was silence, for a moment, as that very skull-face stared without expression at Khavur. The butt of the halberd-haft lifted slightly, then pushed into the rocky floor, as if to steady him there.

"The Sentinel will wait," he stated, though what exactly that meant was rather up for debate.

Did he mean that he'd look for Khavur's return, wherever he might be at the time? Or that he was going to stand right here--exactly here--and wait until there was something for Khavur to report, on mangoes?

@Khavur

The Sentinel appeared to be allured, in some capacity, to long breaks of silence. Khavur both did and did not understand this. In Khavur's experience, silence was nice sometimes, excellent others, and absolutely crushing occasionally, or more, eventually. The Sentinel sprinkled silence into conversations in gratuitous doses, without fear, and the more Khavur was exposed to it... the less antsy it made the Reaver feel. Perhaps it was an acquired taste.

At last, the Sentinel made its remark. Khavur blinked in mild surprise at the concept presented. It didn't have to... wait for the Reaver to return. Did it... know that? "You probably shouldn't wait there the whole time. I will take a while." Had to make that clear. Just in case it wasn't before. Now, without another dilatory action, Khavur could begin.

It dipped its heads to the Sentinel, angled itself toward the direction of the room of crystals and light -- Orion, and marched away.

- exit -

He watched Khavur go, silent. He had likely taken a mental note not to stand here, at least, until it returned--likely. But he did not move, simply still in the dark, like a statue; and when it moved off, he turned and looked around.

The Sentinel had not eaten in some time; a day or two, at least. His stomach bit at him, and the whispers of his halberd--and his magic--urged him to find something to consume.

The Sentinel made his way to the river's edge, wondering if perhaps there were fish visible in the current. He found one, too: in fact, a few. Most were small, scattering silver things, in the face of something larger. The "something larger" was a Redfang: steely gray-green, curling here and there in the swift, strong current as it fought to catch something smaller.

The smaller fish would hardly be a meal, but the Redfang would be enough meat to last him. The Sentinel positioned himself carefully at the edge, and waited; he aimed the halberd, poised downward, and prepared for a strike.

There he waited, patient and tensed, until the Redfang happened to swim beneath him; and he struck, aiming to impale it through the broadest part of its body.

rolled a Redfang oh no - but only a 25 pounder... only...

He nearly fell in, such was the weight of the fish, and his own momentum. One foot did go in, and his grunted reflex was ungraceful: a splash of one leg, a twist of his body as he fell chest-down on the edge. There he froze, for a moment, trying to figure out how to get himself up without dropping both his cursed halberd and the twenty-five pound fish impaled at its end. He settled for working the halberd up beneath him, then transferring the fish to shore still impaled and thrashing. With that slight counter-weight he was able to pull himself safely up.

Khavur was near forgotten. Its quest for mangoes, or whatever it would seek, had scattered from the Sentinel's mind in favor of this: the hunt, the thrashing prey across the ground. His movements were dispassionate, even faintly respectful, as he withdrew the halberd; as he lifted it, as he brought it down like an executioner's axe. The cut wasn't where he'd meant it to be, the head severed too high forward, but it did the job: and now he had a meal before him.

exit Sentinel