What had made this footprint?

Staring at the floor he couldn't help but wonder. What had been here before him? Was this thing still around? Had it died– were there pieces of it left in the bones scattered around? Staring at the print that was as much a part of the rock and stone as the walls and floor itself, Saudade brought a paw to rest in the paw print of whatever Goliath that had came before him. It had been very big... and its claws had been very large. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how much space it took up, but if he had to hazard a guess...

Surely five or six times his size. At least! Would Azazel know anything about these big creatures?

Even if Azazel did there was a troubling thought that crawled around in Saudade's mind.

From what he knew, things didn't die for no reason. Stuff died because something killed it, like Azazel killing the rat and himself eating it. That rat was alive until it was killed.

… So what killed this giant thing? Better yet, how big and how strong did whatever that killed it have to be to have pulled that off? If this thing was five or six times his size... did whatever kill it have to be ten or twenty times? How would it even fit in the room! Tilting his head, he stared at the low ceiling in the dim half-light of the cavern. Life was full of questions. And even getting answered led to more questions.

Would he ever know it all? With a troubled look he glanced back to the footprint.

... Would something kill him, too, one day?

Tagging Azooka and whomever she decides to bring in. Anyone else interested in joining is more than welcome to, too. :>

{ reverie } ~ the state of being plesantly lost in one's thoughts; a daydream

The Bonebound were a true group now... and it seemed alright. Everyone seemed to get along, and nobody seemed to be too upset at one another. So far, there hasn't been another golem sighting, not near The Circuit at least. Azazel found himself wandering toward it, flapping great wings to reach the top of a quite tall rock, wedging himself comfortably between the terra firma and the cieling. It was time for some deep thinking. Carmine eyes gazed blankly at the cieling, head turning slowly to give himself something else to do other than thinking.

What would he do to help his group learn about fighting... to learn one another's strengths and weaknesses so that they could become... bigger, better, faster, stronger. If there was another golem attack, surely all would panic and accidentally use magic on them. Azazel still had yet to finish his little research project on how to deactivate, or kill, the golems. They had to have a source of life, like every other creature that wandered these halls. Magic awakened them, and Azazel was pretty sure that by not using it, the golems wouldn't know where one was, and that they'd be easy targets. Just what was their weakness, though? Hanging his head, Azazel sighed.

Eventually growing bored of simply staring at the carvings and strange scriptures on the wall, the ave closed his eyes. Not blissfully or just blinking... He wished upon a dream. A daydream of where one day... The Bonebound would be legends. A tendril of his fantasies created an image behind his closed eyelids. It was an image of all of The Bonebound, grown and fending off golems. They went on many adventures and fought many great evils. When carmine eyes fluttered open once more, darkness shrouded his vision, and he smiled a little. Someday. The Bone King and The Bonebound would be something great... something to be remembered in this world. Origin Caves would know their name, their story. "Someday." Azazel quietly stood, stretching his expanse of feathery wings.

Throwing his weight forth, the bird glided easily amongst the rocks, sharp gaze capturing every image of this story in pristine high definition. What he hadn't noticed, was that perhaps he was now diving down. The wile of gravity told the ave otherwise, and his instincts screamed for him to pull upwards. Too late. Sloppily, Azazel skittered on the rocky floor, talons frantically scraping across the floor and wings flailing about. Finally, The Bone King's body decided to curl up into a ball and throw him across the smooth granite in a somersault. Friction rubbed the bird's feathers the wrong way, and finally he collapsed into a feathery heap at a rock nearby. Upside down.

Grunting, the bird pushed himself up onto his feet and stared grumpily across the cave, to find a tall stick figure fox in the distance. Saudade? What was he doing here? All that Azazel could do was simply hop forwards. It was obvious that the vulpine Gembound would have noticed the ave by now. He had just fallen from the top of the roof, after all! "Hi!" He chirped cheerfully, meaning to at least be a little friendly and not just appear from the darkness.

"Speech"

Bravo spent the entirety of his awaken time this day stooping around and collecting any and all things that omitted a shine. Gems of all sorts were beginning to pile up inside his tiny, well hidden fort. It wasn't complete just yet but the growing raccoon had gotten extremely sidetracked by his newfound impulse of collection. He hadn't the slightest clue what the gems could be used for, but he figured they were valuable since everyone seemed to have one attached to their bodies... magic usage sometimes made the attached gems glow to life. He began to correlate magic usage to attached gems, without the gems he speculated a creature would die or become otherwise useless... Some dark thoughts for someone so young and new to the world. He couldn't say he heard of any gembounds dying since he'd been alive.

A morbid curiosity took hold though, and Bravo really wanted to know if there was a connection between life and death that was impeded by the gems...

A scraping tumble broke him from a trancelike state of searching and Bravo rerouted himself to approach the ruckus. He heard wings beating just before the fall. Did someone just drop from the sky? Bravo quickened his pace and darted forward, nearly tripping in the large engraved footprints scattered all over this section of the cave.

Upon closer inspection he found his friend, and self pronounced king, crumpled up in a ball. He didn't know how to help the mortally injured and a panic had flashed through his veins. But still breathing! Bravo sighed, relieved. Aza'zel picked himself up like nothing happened and started towards a shadowy figure in the distance. Turquoise light illuminated between his eyes and Bravo tried to send a focused message around the two of them, but his spell didn't work! Instead the muddied message turned and melted into chaotic whisperings that sounded nothing like his own voice. His rounded ears plastered down onto his skull, the noise was an obnoxious one and Bravo had never had his own spell go so wrong before. His focus must have been off... A tinge of embarrassment seeped through his bones now. But he still approached his group mates anyway, maybe they'd think he meant for that to happen? Maybe.

"Hello," he greeted the two, eyeballing the footprint the tall wolf-fox stood next to. Bravo's head began to ache and feel a bit fuzzy.