And then silence fell again, uncomfortable and stale. Cancer found himself staring at that cracked stone again. He considered his own horns, and the stones of those he knew, just idly. Tired. He was tired. This whole cycle had been exhausting. He should never have left Pisces. Those eyes drifted to the partial map on the far wall. No, it was the right thing to do. Now 'bounds everywhere, forever on, would have a map to go off, even if it sat in Pisces and not Polaris proper. Here, they would find a sanctuary, a safe resting place. This would be a haven for gembounds forever on, or so he'd try to keep it that way. The cat felt his eyes slide lower, and his gaze rested on Fisher again.

"Did you ever... dream, inside your crystal? Before you got out, I mean?" He asked tentatively, after a few minutes had passed. His voice was hushed now, weary. "I did. I used to dream of a great spread of golden grass and wide green trees." He spoke in a dreamy tone now, eyes no longer seeing the Fisher as he stared. "I used to think I'd be born into that world... that place... but then, I was born here." For the first time since birth, he looked out upon Pisces Cave and grimaced.

"Used to be a time I called this place home without any doubts... now, I wonder how much time I have left here." Suddenly, those ears flicked back and his expression turned almost... frightened. "It's like a part of this place just... died."

Fisher's brows knitted over his eyes, a thoughtful expression crossing the usually impulsive, spontaneous critter. It was hard to remember a time before he had hatched... Before the world of Cetus had become a thing to Fisher, all he had was that constant, vibrant hum and the cold. He tilted his head at the cat and began to go off into a story for him.

"Before I was born, the world was cold. Everything was endless, blank, except for a constant noise that spoke to me. It was fuzzy, like static, just constantly buzzing." He wondered if Cancer had ever been to the place of mist. He wondered if Cancer had ever heard the buzzing. "Maybe I couldn't dream, because it was so loud. I don't know... But when I hatched, I wanted nothing more than to find the source of the hum. It was my life."

His tail twitched and he lifted a paw, waving Cancer closer, offering like Tamelyn had that once to let him snuggle her when he was frightened and tired. "So off I set to find the hum, in the world of white mist and mud. I didn't find it at first, and I got distracted. I left my home behind and met many wonderful gembound. I made many mistakes, I did dangerous, stupid things." He didn't want to talk about those things just then, of course, because they mostly involved him using magic and messing up.

"And one day, I found the humming again. In a tunnel, far from home," he spoke wistfully. "There was a lot of water, so much it tried to swallow me and a few other gembound who had come by. There was a kitten, white and freshborn into the chaos. The buzzing was so loud, I was so close, but the kitten was going to drown if I didn't do something. So I went and saved her, and left the humming to the others. They stopped the water, and the buzzing left. It had returned to my home, and so did I."

Fisher still wasn't sure what the humming was, and he didn't even know if anyone could possibly understand his need to know. "... And when I, when I returned, to the mist and the mud and the buzzing, the gembounds and I stumbled into a gembound taller than the waterfall here. It was huge, long, with teeth and frills. It lives in the water, you see, in my home. My friends attacked it, and I tried, but only hurt myself. I was useless. It ate a gembound, it hurt my friends, and I could only watch." Despite his dark words, he was smiling.

"A barkfriend of mine, a big black dog, saved me. He didn't attack the giant gembound either. He instead asked it a question, and that's when I realized. The big gembound was just protecting its home, my home. I begged everyone to stop and the big gembound spat out the gembound he had eaten-- alive. He spoke to us, told us that he would help us if we needed him. He was a guardian, misunderstood. I don't think he was the source of the humming. I don't know if I ever will find out... But the thing is, I don't know if it matters. I don't know if anything matters, except for what I do and what others do and how gembounds live together. The cave has always been the way it is, I think, the mist doesn't just disappear, the water doesn't stop flowing down the fall. But gembounds change all the time."

He tilted his head, wondering if he had said anything useful. "I think we have to make sure we're changing into things we want to change into. Pisces feels dead because things have changed here, right? They aren't as good as they used to be... But it's because of gembounds, not because of the place." He regarded the other gembound curiously, his voice gentle. He knew that Cancer probably blamed himself for the change. There was hardly a gembound alive that didn't feel guilty when something bad happened. It seemed all they could do was blame themselves.

Well, Fisher wasn't about to blame Cancer for his past mistakes.

Cancer listened to Fisher's story. He knew what place the brown weasel spoke of- Cetus. He spoke of a great guardian, savage but misunderstood. He spoke of change but not in the cave- no, in the people that lived there. Cancer felt a pang in his chest, like a sharp needle piercing him, and he felt his final walls crumble. Things had changed. Makyna had changed. He'd changed. They weren't kids anymore. That innocence was gone... and he'd been so stuck on wanting it back, he hadn't considered that maybe, the future would bring them new and better things. The leopard sighed shakily, and without another word, brought his head down across Fisher's back- gentle, but firm. Then, in a moment of true weakness, for the first time, he started to cry.

It wasn't as if he shed silent tears this time. He didn't choke or moan. This time, he sobbed, bringing his paws around the litte brown new-friend and pulling him closer, burying his face. There were no words, only gasping sounds as if he couldn't catch his breath, wails of anguish, barely drowned out by the roar of the falls beside them. He didn't know this Fisher, he didn't really care to- all the boy knew now was the pain of heartbreak, and the feeling of finally being understood for it. It was relief and torture, and for the first time in his life, he let go. All the pain and jealousy, all the grief of not knowing, or knowing too much. All the confusion of his feelings and past, the very purpose he'd once lived for. He cried, sobbing really, until his throat was raw and his eyes, blurry from tears.

Finally, after some long minutes, he lay softly hiccuping for breath, his head gently resting over Fisher's back, eyes lidded but not shut as he stared out at nothing. He was careful, oh so careful, not to hurt or restrict his new found companion- he hoped this awkward bout of emotion would scare him off. He needed the company. He needed the understanding.

No one else had understood until now. So far, this strange brown injured thing was the only person in the cave that had any answers to the haunting questions. Change was hard... but at least now, Cancer knew, it wasn't just him.

Fisher wasn't the most sensitive of gembounds. He had plenty of sort of friends, but they were mostly... Well... Casual friends. He wasn't really close-close to anyone. So when Cancer started to sob on him, he felt a moment of panic. Had he made the cat cry? Shit. That wasn't what he wanted to do-- he just... He just wanted to help!

For a long while they just stayed there, quiet. Fisher had no idea what to do or say, and since the cat hadn't replied to his long ass story he was afraid he had said too much. Maybe it would have been better to just say nothing at all, but... It seemed like Cancer was snuggling into him as much as he could without actually hurting him-- careful to watch for the scars and cuts and bruises. It was such a small, stupid thing. Fisher wouldn't have cared if the dumb cat had shoved his face into his ribs or anything. He just wanted the cat to be less upset.

"You gonna be okay?" He asked, softly, wriggling until he was laying on his back with the leopard's head on his belly. With a grunt-filled stretch, he reached up his paws to gently bat at Cancer's ear. The cat was so fluffy. Maybe living by the waterfall had made his fur so soft. The thought made the brown noodle smile, and in an attempt to cheer the sobbing mess up, he licked at his cheek, over and over. Grooming him. He'd never done such a thing to anyone else before, but it felt right in that moment. There was like that one time he had snuck a lick on Fang, but that had been playful, almost a joke in itself. Cancer's black fur was salty, soaked wet with tears.

And, quietly, he offered a bit of peace to the black leopard. "Look, the world isn't going to end because stuffs different. Maybe it'll be better. You got Quix, right? And Bevy, and me, and whoever else. It's not over yet."