stitch by stitch, i tear apart
if brokenness is a form of art
i must be a poster child prodigy

It's dark. Quiet. Peaceful. There's nothing but the ringing of silence in his ears and the gentle swaying of the world. Nothing but his own heartbeat and breath.

Thoughts, emotions, they don't exist here. Not yet, anyway. But they come to him, slowly, piece by piece. There is, first, a feeling. Of calm, of contentment, of soft, sweet comfort. He lives, and he breathes, and finally, finally, he thinks.

Where am I?

Something simple. Something small. And yet... in the grand scheme of things, something important. His first thought. His first, few words - spoken in his head, even as they are. Then, more emotions. Confusion, uncertainty - a little bit of panic. Awareness arises in starts and stops, unfurls new but not pleasant - and in that moment, he hopes for a return to the silence. To the stillness. To the unfeeling void.

But his body's grown too big for the chrysalis that cocoons him, and as his panic grows, and he moves, shifts - he presses against the walls of his confines, which fractures with sharp cracks. And suddenly, it breaks.

Ruptures.

And he free falls.

It's not a long fall, in the long run. But he's small, and the impact against the ground is jarring. For a moment, he shakes, frame shuddering with great big judders. Looks around, with wide, strange eyes, and wonders again - where am I? The air around him feels thick, heavy with humidity, but it's surprisingly chilly. Having never felt the cold before, goosebumps rise along his skin, the fine hairs at the nape of his neck rising. He looks around him, sees glittering grey chunks of stone surrounding his form. Some of them gleam with iridescent greens and blues, and he shuffles forward to peer closer.

They're beautiful. Is this... is this what broke, earlier? These shards of stone? Are they what he was encased in?

It seems likely. But he's... not sure why. It just. Feels right?

Odd. Emotions are... odd.

Looking around once more, he notices that he's in... a cave? But... what exactly is a cave? This? His mind conjures words for each thing he sees - rock, grass, trees, water. But he isn't quite entirely sure what these things are. Water is that, yes, but... how does he know that?

How does he know anything? And what's the extent of his knowledge?

He raises one paw to scratch at his ear - and that's weird, too. Having a body, moving it, seeing it, is weird. New.

His paw is black. He has black nails. They're short and small, but his paws are big, alluding to a larger adult form. He's not sure how he knows that, but he does. He knows something else, too, something that niggles at the back of his brain. His name.

Jude.

Jude. Jude. Jude. He says the word, over and over again, in his head. Then, realizes he has a tongue, has a mouth, and he tries the word aloud, too.

"Jude. Jude. Juuuude."

Speaking is even weirder than moving. He has to make the words, and force the sound out - and it echoes throughout the cave, bounces back to filter through his ears and into his brain. Odd, odd, odd.

Beyond the sound of his own voice, he hears something else. The rushing of water. He looks up, and sees - a grand waterfall. It's gorgeous. He feels a pull to the water, something in his veins crying out for it. He takes one, wobbling step towards it - and falls.

His limbs give out. They're not used to moving, yet, he's not used to moving - and so it really isn't surprising that he only manages all of one step. Still, he can't help but pout, for a moment. He wanted to get to the water.

jude

There is a baby by the Waterfall. A fresh baby, at that. Last time Doru had encountered a fresh baby... Well, the burn on his side from the encounter has healed well enough by now, at least.

A part of him feels the calf had deserved Doru's own attack at him, belligerent and prone to ignoring his attempts to give some guidance as the calf was. It had wounded Doru's pride, and his pride had been all he'd had at the time.

Now he has more. He has Vindicator, and he has their future child, still unhatched. He studies the child from a distance, and tries to imagine caring for this child as if it was his own. He can't, but it's not his own.

(Oh, but would it matter even then? He has already abandoned one child of his to an unknown fate. The only reason this second child is different is because it belongs to Vindicator, and he cares about Vindicator.

And he knows that Vindicator already cherishes their child, and he hopes he will be able to pull from that source of shared love to care for their child as well, if caring does not come naturally to Doru, as it often doesn't.)

Well, he might as well try to interact with the child, as practice. The seven foot tall dragon hybrid stepped forward, kneeling before the collapsed canine.

He does not try for a croon this time, it sounds too odd on him, instead he keeps his posture loose and at ease. "Are you alright, child?" he asks, trying for a concerned tone. It mostly works.

@Jude

stitch by stitch, i tear apart
if brokenness is a form of art
i must be a poster child prodigy

Along comes - a thing - a someone?

Jude doesn't know. Isn't sure.

But the thing that approaches him is big. So big that the little canine has to bend his neck back to peer at its face. It bears long, draping things that spread from its back - wings. His mind is filled with information he'd not learned, information innately known, but it does not bear the knowledge of what wings do. This, he must learn for himself.

There are many things he will learn, over time.

Like the horrors of the world. The greed of others. Pain, and all that comes with it.

But for now...

For now, he knows nothing of the world. Of the potential others hold. And so he's trusting, curious, as the other bends down. A small, plaintive whine slips from his maw, and he sprawls, forelegs held before him and hindlegs held out behind. Like that, he wiggles, crawling forward - closer. Closer.

Close enough to spy the vertical slit of its pupils. The amethyst of its eyes.

"Are you alright, child?" It asks.

His brain takes a moment to process the new words. To hear them, understand them. Once the meanings of each individual one clicks, he goes over the whole sentence again. It's a question - one asking after him? His health?

He takes a moment to check in with his own body. Nothing hurts, not particularly - there's a slight twinge in his left thigh from holding his legs in this position, but otherwise, he feels good. Great, even. Refreshed, energized, awake.

Confused, sure, and a little hesitant - but now there's someone here. Someone who can answer his questions. Someone who can... lead him to the water?

He yaps out some wordless sound, a short, high yip. Then, realizing the sound meant nothing, he thinks - on the words he wishes to say. They come to him slowly, his mind still slowly processing all of the information it suddenly has.

"Huh - hiiii." He eventually drawls, baby voice soft. Multi-colored eyes look up and up, switching from the stranger's face to the stone ceiling above, to the foamed edges of the waterfall.

"Wuh - water?" He asks hopefully, wiggling his little body once more. The black puff of his wagging tail momentarily grabs his attention from the corner of his eye, and he turns to face it. For a moment, he bares small, sharp teeth at it - unsure, unknowing that it's attached to his own body. Then, he realizes, and lets loose another curious sound.

jude

The child hears Doru's voice, and he idly notes that the child feels like a him to Doru, and the canine's instinct is to squirm closer to him, crawling his way over, instead of running away or attacking despite his golden claws or sharp teeth. Perhaps the child does not even notice those qualities. Or perhaps, the child does not care.

Doru thinks he would not mind a child like this one as what Luminary will be like, even if this child is helpless and weak for now. Helplessness passes, and weakness can be solved. This eager trust, it is not safe for all, not in these caves, but he can see why one mind find such easy trust to be remarkable.

Easy trust like that... Did Doru feel it as a child, towards his parents? He thinks so. His vampire parent never wanted to hurt any being but still would protect either him or Bez with their whole being, and his dragon parent taught was mighty and large to him, as a child. He was proud to call them his parents, even if he had not understood the concept of loving them as they loved him.

They would be disappointed in him, for having attacked a child previously. Both of them would be, the thought occurs to Doru suddenly. Since when did he care about the feelings of his parents, he wondered. In a way, he does not. But his childhood self, still a part of him, did and does care. That Doru did not want to let down his parents, figures of strength and protection to a child Doru.

Suddenly, he wishes to see Erasmus, at least, and maybe... He will visit Cetus, after this. Perhaps he will not tell them much, or perhaps he will. Emotions flow easier now.

The child yips, and then manages a word. A greeting, just for him. "Hello, child," he greets in return.

Doru is not sure if the other is asking for water to drink, wants to go to the water, or is simply seeing water. But he speaks his best guess. "I can bring you to the water, by picking you up, if you would like. Or you can walk there yourself, since you will have to learn eventually. I can help you if you stumble, so as not to fall completely," he adds. "It is your choice."

And choices were important.

Does Doru regret scratching the calf so cruelly with his venom? He is not sure. Still, his pride rankles over the entire encounter. The child did not show trust, attacked him first, and then continually failed to listen when he tried to help. He grew frustrated, but that is no excuse.

He regrets giving into his anger, he thinks. He does not think he regrets the lesson, still, not entirely. He cannot fully. But that is not how one should respond to injured pride, even if pride is all one has. And in that moment, traveling alone, pride was all Doru had. Voluntarily, some might say, as he had left the nest willingly enough. And yet...

Doru understands his actions, and he regrets.

@Jude