She looked up to Pride as he spoke, as taken with his soft voice as with the light. Though--he did speak so slowly. She looked back at the bauble, faint impatience in her. When he pulled away she head-butted it without a thought, smacking her skull into it with a quiet crack.

It hurt, a little, but she hadn't hit it hard; she backed up, staring the baubled stone down.

The bright flash to her left pulled her attention back, though, and she gave up plotting revenge on a rock; instead she looked to Pride, and then up at his wisp.

Acheron stared, enamored. "Ma-gic," she repeated, fascinated. "Magic."

Then she tried to headbutt the wisp, too: but it was too high for her to reach. She backed up, huffing softly in a dog-like manner.

She reared up on her hind legs, head tilting down--and as she crashed down onto her tiny fore-hooves, her Sardonyx gemstone flared bright. A powerful spark of magic burst outward, careening for the wisp with surprising precision, sending it dispersing and spinning away.

The wisp reformed a few feet in another direction, but Acheron--proud and pleased--spun in a clattering circle, huffing.

"Magic," she told Pride, firing him a playfully defiant stare.

Hers was clearly better.

Oh.

He blinked down at the child, glancing at his sputtering wisp, then slowly back to her again.

She had inherited his strength in magic, it seemed, and he gave her a slow nod. "Very good, Acheron," he answered, quiet but careful praise. Magic was good, but-... Morality would be important to teach the child, and she was already displaying both power and determination. He'd need to be sure to temper that with--I'm overthinking it again.

He chastised himself--she was freshly hatched, for caves' sakes!--but... he'd seen what could result with training but not teaching.

"Are you hungry?" he asked her, impulsively. Maybe they could find out, together, what she ate--and with that out of the way, perhaps he could find some sort of story to tell her to make an initial point. He considered forming a banana for her, but he needed to know what sort of food she would prefer--and he wasn't sure she'd be interested in trying to find out after she'd stuffed herself full with magic fruit.

red deer img credit - dan seagrave

Food? her mind supplied, hopeful, to the question of 'hungry.'

She sat back, and some itch or other presented itself in her ear; she lifted a hind hoof to scratch at it, staring off into the middle distance. She was trying to think over the ideas of hunger, of food, juggling concepts of eating and filling her tiny belly.

"Eat," Acheron offered, at length, setting down her hoof and peering up at Pride.

She didn't know what she wanted, only that food sounded... okay?

Oh--but there were plants here. Right there, in fact, among the baubles. Acheron had no way of knowing that this was somebody's grown garden, and so she plodded in, sniffing among them.

They seemed... ehh. Food, was the word, but it was lukewarm. She nibbled at a leaf, chewed it--jerked it from its stem and ate it. The faint scrunch of her face, the disinterest, said it all: "meh." It was edible, she could eat it, but it didn't taste all that great.

Pride peered at Acheron, watching. She apparently identified the plants as food, and ate one, though seemed less than enthusiastic about it. Ahh, well; at least she could probably survive off plants. If she started to show signs of distress, he could always get her meat, but...

He also supposed it wouldn't hurt to show her, on a mouse or something equally simple, just in case.

"Come," he offered quietly, "and we'll see if we can't find you something a little better." If she turned out not to like it, he could always hand it off to one of the Seven who did eat meat; it wouldn't go to waste, at least.

Pride turned away, taking a few steps off and glancing back, attentive, to see if she were following. Then he cast his senses outward, looking for potential prey.

His magic pinged back, alerting him to numerous small creatures--and he hastily discarded the little flare he knew belonged to his familiar, Mischief. Eventually, sifting through the blinding flares of all those stones--bugs and rats and bats and the like--he honed in on a tiny cluster that he judged to be around the right size for something like rats, rabbits, mice or bats, and headed for it.

red deer img credit - dan seagrave

Acheron didn't know--or particularly care--where it was that they were going. She was losing interest quickly in their simply standing here, and found herself just a little weary, too--but eager for something new, already.

She took a look at the direction in which Pride was heading--his gait stoic, steady--and shot past him at a bound. She gauged her jump, tensed her body, and as she landed from one leap she pushed her magic down through her legs.

Off she went, zipping past him in enormous, bouncing leaps impossible for a creature her size without magic, vanishing into the dark up ahead. She wasn't leaving him behind, exactly; just... getting there faster.

Wherever "there" might be.

Acheron shot past him, and he gave a sigh, and sped his gait again to keep up. She was quick, and he had to break into a flat run. He called out a warning as she drew closer to where he'd seen the stones. "Wait, please. Acheron. Acheron! Slow down." It was more a plea than a command, however, and he had no idea if she'd listen to him, or not.

She'll be a challenge, he realized, wry.

He cast out his magic a second time as they approached the place he'd seen the little stones, slowing himself, hissing after Acheron again. "Acheron--come here, please. I'm going to teach you something."

red deer img credit - dan seagrave

Acheron had no real feeling for Pride, yet--no sense of attachment--so his words were met with mild irritation, once again. She didn't want to restrain herself, to go slow and come back--but she did, dutifully if not unhappily. Back she came, her bounding bounces shifting to a slow trot; she came to a stop before him. She gave him a brief stare, then plonked onto her rump, little tail switching back and forth as she waited.

"-What is?" she asked, for a second time, this time a little dour instead of interested. She felt no real need to speak all that much, but she wanted to know why he was slowing her down.

What did he want? Although--teaching sounded cool. Learning. She huffed and waited, staring up at him.

Pride glanced down at her with some surprise. She already sounded fed up, not the gentle trusting children he'd mostly raised thus far but instead, both rebellious and disinterested. He didn't quite know how to deal with this; he had to hope she simply... grew out of it.

And quickly.

Maybe Mercurius can help. Pride was beginning to certainly feel out of his own depth.

He took a breath, and nodded toward a cluster of rock up above and ahead. "There are creatures living in that stone. Stop, and listen. Sniff. Watch. Do you sense them-?" he asked. He waited a beat, patient, and then continued. "Some of us eat living things, but only those who cannot speak." Another pause, his words suddenly stern and clear at this last, his stare direct. Then he took another breath. "We kill them quickly, so they do not suffer; then we eat. Tell me if you can sense them."

He studied her a moment. "Don't do anything yet," he warned. "Only tell me if you can sense them."

red deer img credit - dan seagrave

She listened, attentively, though more because she wanted this information than out of any sense of loyalty. It wasn't that she disliked Pride--there just wasn't a real bond there, yet.

But his words were interesting, and she stood and turned, head tilted to one side. She obeyed--head up like a dog's, nose working, ears pricked upward now. Pale eyes searched the rock, but she saw nothing; at length she looked back to Pride, studying him again. "...Smell," she said, at last, then hesitated. She did smell something, but... she didn't know what it was. Something acrid, rank. "Stink," was her verdict, delivered quietly. She shook her head--it was gross--and looked back to the rocks, stiff and staring like a pointer.

She couldn't hear anything though, or see anything. Only the smell--and she didn't know what that meant.

He lifted his head, nostrils flaring. Ahh, he thought, placing the scent at once. "Bats," he told her. "That smell is bat--ah, guano. Poop," he clarified, glancing at her with humor. Her blank return stare reminded him that Acheron had no idea what poop was; he cleared his throat and looked ahead again.

"Bats can fly. Some of them are dangerous," he added--and he had no idea which bats these might be. "I'll try to scare them out, all right-? And you can try to kill one. Pick a bat, when they fly out--all right? And that magic that you used to hit my wisp--my light--use that on a bat. Okay?"

Pride paused, waiting, studying Acheron for any sign of reluctance. He certainly wouldn't force her to kill--but she seemed disinterested, almost callous. Is that a good sign--for her hunting--or a bad, for her future? he wondered, then gently shook his head.

He'd tackle that as they came to it.

He focused, for a moment--concentrating on sending his wisp, bobbing along behind him, bursting into the stones in a small explosion.

It fizzled out before it ever impacted the rock, however--exploding before he'd meant it to--and he grimaced. "Sometimes," he explained, "magic fails."

red deer img credit - dan seagrave