Beast had no idea that he'd been "missing." He'd seen Vazi--or rather, Hasira--wandering about Orion from time to time, but he hadn't heard his name called. He'd left out the offerings of berries and plants, and cheerfully stayed out of the stag's way. He still wasn't sure it was Vazi who had actually been eating the stuff, but never mind; Beast was lost in his own world, almost deliberately. He'd found a great joy in tending the plants of Orion, despite Vazi's previous cruelty. Often he sat for hours practicing his craft, calling on that bloom of life within him and sharing it, offering life and peace with a shine in his eyes that spoke of peace and kindness. Great white paws gently patted soil around the seeds, and sprouts poked up from the earth in pale green beauty. Along the outer edges of Orion, a jungle was starting to form: tangles of ferns and bushes, winding artistically along the rock faces, with long patches of grasses and even small tree saplings beginning to show growth. The no-longer-a-cub was taller, rangier, more athletic now; he was a young lion, no longer a baby cub. The scraggly beginnings of a mane circled his muscular neck, and his white coat shone with health, instead of bony malnutrition. Part of that was the aptitude he'd cultivated, alongside the plants themselves, for subsisting entirely on plant matter. He'd learned to weave his magic into it, so that a few leaves was the same as a bite of meat, for him. Even the spiral moonstone horns at the back of his skull had jumped in growth, longer and pointed than the stunted stubs they had been before. And the fantasy world was his headspace: he lived in twining vines and bushes, where light and shadow shifted between the leaves and magic drifted all around him. He spoke to the plants, encouraging them, even naming some, padding between them with a gently-twitching tufted tail, offering them gentle nudges and smiles. In his mind, they were all his garden, and he was their tender, their shepherd. He'd imagine the mice having wars there, and sometimes he lay quiet and watched them nibbling seeds, his gaze peaceful. He'd almost forgotten Vazi. The memories of fear and of Vazi's cruelty had faded, and at any sign of other Gembound, Beast had faded back into the shadows of his plants, tucked away hidden. Cancer and the rest he'd avoided; he was content enough alone. His plants were company. He'd liked Clover, but he hadn't seen her; so he remained alone, his only real memories of Hasira those of faint pity. He wondered about him now and again, wondering if the stag had found some sort of peace from whatever had troubled him, but his main concern was for his plants. Still, perhaps it was a peace that couldn't last; one couldn't remain alone forever, particularly locked together in caves, no matter how vast. ______________

@Hasira ; @Clover ; @ anyone who wants, really! Free for anyone, or no one, to join!

Clover was left alone again, wandering the paths of Orion like a ghost with no purpose, kept here, unable to travel, with no audience to tells stories to, with no one to share her experiences with. It was a silent bubble, a period of isolated stasis. She felt bleak, walking with her head hung low, no energy to her pace - she only moved because she couldn't keep still. Vazi kept her here like a prisoner, and it was rare that she found the opportunity to leave and see her friends again.

Her mind flashed to the wedding she was able to sneak away and see....and the aftermath of seeing Leon and Vazi burned to cinders because of their differing viewpoints. She still didn't have the whole story, both of them too hurt to explain at the time. The fact that Leon would do such a thing had shaken her to her core - how had the soft bear radiating love turned to violence that almost murdered both them and someone else?

In the silence, the only things in her head were Vazi's words running in circles, telling her that carnivores only hurt others and caused pain, and the more she thought about it, the more it made sense.

When she reached the edge of Orion after turning a corner, she looked to the sweet grasses and plants there, braving a weak smile on her face. The more she came to this little area, the more it grew, and she liked seeing its progress every now and again. As she looked over the plants, she saw a flash of white in the reeds, and she frowned, raising her head, calling, "Who's there?"

@Beast

A call, the voice soft and melodious. He had been planting a bush, moving it away from another that was strangling its growth. Now a voice came, and he lifted his head, his large square head muscular now, though his shimmering pale eyes still held a gentle warmth. And his jaws, of course, held a scraggly bush. His pale pelt was dirty here and there with soil. It took him a moment, peering over his plants and reeds, to recognize Clover, and his eyes widened. Quickly and smoothly he stood upright, stepping carefully over his plants and laying the bush to one side as he approached closer. A few yards away he paused, hesitating, his tufted tail flicking briefly. I'm almost as big as she is, he thought abruptly, startled at his own growth. But aloud he merely said, "Hello. Did you want something to eat?" in a gentle tone, curiosity milling just below the surface. Why was the white deer here? He welcomed her presence, of course--he liked her--but he hadn't seen her, nor Vazi, in some time. Did they need him for something? Remembering his manners, he bowed his head, the strands of growing mane shifting to hang around his face. He hoped it would be respect enough, and that the doe would not be angry with him for forgetting it, for a moment. ______________

@Clover

She saw the lion's head come from out of the bushes and instinctively she saw this carnivore and her eye went wide, her ears fell back, and she stumbled back a few paces, her heart jumping in place. Fear shot through her like electricity, replaced by the recognition that it was Beast that she was looking at, no longer a cub.

She battled the fear and stomped on it in her head, watching as Beast spoke peacefully and gently, bowing to her respectfully. The Beast looked....content. Full. At peace. Seeing them like this, growing to full adulthood after escaping from Vazi, soothed her like hands petting her fur.

"No, I..." She started, taking a deep breath to calm herself down. They wouldn't do anything to her. It was fine. "I'm just waiting for Vazi to come back. That's all."

She swallowed. "But-but you look wonderful, my dear. And your garden is beautiful. I didn't know it was yours."

@Beast

Beast gently tilted his head, watching the white doe. She flinched away, stammered; she was afraid. Of him...? This bothered him, briefly, but then he pushed the thought away. She wasn't afraid of him; why should she be? He turned, briefly and expertly picking over his plants, choosing a sturdy branch of succulent leaves to pull away. This he carried to the doe, padding quietly over and laying it at her feet like an offering, before backing away and bowing his head once again--as he'd been taught. Then he lay slowly down, on his chest, watching her; he still seemed peaceful, calm, and attentive. "Those are good leaves," he explained quietly, and then he addressed what she'd actually said to him. "It isn't mine, but I grow it and take care of it. But it doesn't belong to me, it's alive," he said, and his pride, tempered by humility, was obvious. His tufted tail twitched behind him once as he thought about what to say. The idea of Vazi returning briefly flickered within him, something unpleasant, something distantly ominous like thunder on the horizon. It threatened his peaceful existence, the calm he'd cultivated alongside the garden, but he pushed this thought, too, away. Instead, he eyed Clover again; she'd seemed afraid. "Is something wrong? Do you need something?" he asked softly. It was his job to help, after all, his task to serve; if there was something that needed tending to, it was his responsibility to handle it as ordered. And so he lay there quietly, no longer a cub but a rangy adolescent, nearing adulthood--and yet just as he'd been as a cub, he awaited a command. ______________

@Clover

She watched Beast lay some delicious looking leaves down at her feet and meekly back away, still speaking gently. "Thank you, my dear," She replied, kneeling down to the ground to look at them better. "You have good ideals, Beast. I admire you for that." Honestly, she needed to hear it, to hear someone else have the same peaceful nature as she did. She felt calm because of it.

"I...." They asked what was wrong, and her gaze flickered to the floor, at the leaves, and her insides twisted. "No, I'd just like some company, is all. It's lonely, and I only have Vazi." She frowned. "They chase me down when I run, and they hurt anyone who comes near me."

Memories of Vazi snapping her lovely cat's legs made her feel sick, and she shifted her eye away from the leaves. "Vazi is not a good gem, and they won't let me leave. I'm sick to death of silence and shadows here, it's driving me up the wall. And Vazi's words...they're bothering me."

"Vazi...got burned recently. Really badly. By a carnivore." Her chest tightened. "I know there are kind and sweet carnivores out there, but it hurts me that I have to be afraid of anyone at all. Leon, the bear, is the nicest, kindest creature around but...they almost got themselves and Vazi killed with fire magic. And if even Leon could hurt others....I don't know."

"They were fighting over someone." She looked up at Beast, frowning. "Do you know anything about that, Beast?"

@Beast

Beast flinched at the memories. The massive grizzly bear, towering over the two, only his glowing flames visible past the cyclone of black smoke that poured from his thick coat... he'd been demon, to Beast, more than bear. He and Vazi had fought, and hard, and Vazi had been quite hurt, afterward. Beast had been cowering, and neither of the two had come to look for him, so he'd stayed hidden. Had it been very long ago...? He didn't think so, but he couldn't remember, not really. Time had blurred, since. "He-... There was a bear," he began to explain, voice soft and almost afraid. "I don't know why they were fighting--I don't remember. I don't want to remember. But I know they were both very angry. I wanted to help, but I didn't know what to do, and there was so much smoke, I... I just hid," he admitted quietly, ducking his head. He had a vague flash of memory, of Vazi kicking him at some point just before or during the fight, or slashing him with an antler tine--again, he couldn't remember. His mind reeled, grasping for thoughts of flowers and vines, and he trembled faintly as he struggled with his own trauma. For a moment he stammered and winced, repeatedly, starting to speak and then stopping--and then suddenly sank down, flattening himself against the ground, staring down with a vacant gaze. "It was my fault," he remembered, slowly, quietly. "They were talking and--... Vazi told me to stay, but I came to ask him something, and I shouldn't have, he told me to stay," and the more he yammered, the more he again sounded like the frightened little cub, all his peaceful composure slipping away, the fantasy of the flowers forgotten. "He hit me with his antlers and then they were fighting, and I tried to get them to stop, I tried, but they wouldn't, so I ran, and I--... I don't remember," he finished in a miserable, pitiful wail. Then he looked up at Clover, face contorted with grief and guilt, fear still inciting muscular lion shoulders into trembling. The thought flashed through his head, unbidden--would she punish him, too?--and despite himself, he flinched again, cowering against the dirt. ______________

@Clover

Her ears perked and stood straight as she listened to Beast, her expression a mix of worry and concern. The cub - no, she couldn't call them a cub now, could she? - the adult before her spoke in soft tones, fear seeping in the more they spoke as they remembered what had gone on. "I don't want to remember," they said, and her ears fell against her head. She knew the feeling, she knew how that was like. She wished she couldn't remember Bartos' screams, Vazi's burnt flesh, Leon's silent guilt, but she could.

She stayed silent as they remembered more and more, panicking and reliving the terror, and she saw this fearful child afraid to be hurt in this adult's skin, and she stood to come to them, softly cooing, "Hush, hush, it's okay my dear. It's not your fault, it's not."

She placed her forehead against theirs, kissing them gently. "Its okay. No one's going to hurt you now."

Vazi had said they were protecting their servant before passing out, Leon said that they had to before wracking coughs disabled their ability to speak, and Beast had been the catalyst for the fight - it all clicked. She saw the turn of events in her head; Leon saw Vazi hurting Beast in scorn, and Leon had defended Beast, and in the fight, little Beast had run away.

No wonder Vazi was searching for Beast with such determination.

"My poor love, I'm sorry you had to go through that," She whispered into their fur, her heart torn but - but different, like adding color to a dim grey pool. Now that she knew what had happened, she could believe that they all had their reasons, rather than a fight caused by internal natures. The whole business made her sick, but - things made sense again. "I'm sorry."

@Beast

She was touching him, speaking to him softly. She was... comforting him. And it was working. He quieted, pale eyes squeezed shut, his claws half-out of their sheaths as they threatened to dig into the ground. He retracted them, taking a deep and shaking breath, and then somewhat abruptly lifted his feline head to touch his nose to Clover's. Shimmering eyes opened and (still trying to get a hold over himself) he spoke, softly. "I'm sorry, I... I... Are you okay? Is... Is Vazi okay? --He said not to call him that," he added, quiet and sudden. He took another slow, deep breath, the child in him curling up somewhere, touched by Clover's kindness but miserable, the adult... or rather, adolescent--struggling to take hold. It never occurred to Beast to be resentful. He assumed that being taught so harshly was the natural order of things, even if he didn't like getting kicked or beaten. So all he really felt was concern--for Vazi, and for Clover, and concern that he might be forced to go back to the stag. Though, in truth, he'd never really left, just gotten a little lost. "Can I do anything to help?" The offer came sudden, too, but he was looking at Clover, and the cub in him had surfaced once again. It had looked at the motherly white doe and worried for her: she seemed alone, forlorn somehow or wistful, worried and tired. Before she had only seemed gentle, and content, if a little nervous. He didn't know what to do for her--and so he just asked if there was anything he could do. She seemed kind, and he didn't want her to be sad. For a moment, cub-Beast and adolescent-Beast were in agreement: Clover should not be sad. He used one paw to gently push the branch of leaves even closer toward her, as if hoping that might help. ______________

@Clover

With one more kiss on their forehead she pulled back to look at them, seeing their pale blue eyes staring at her with concern. She smiled weakly and sighed. "I'm okay now that you're here, Beast. Thank you."

She was tormented with the thought that all carnivores were something to fear and run away from, afraid that Vazi actually was speaking the truth all along, and it hurt her like thorns around her soul, constantly digging into her. To tell herself that others could harm her went against her core belief that everyone would be kind if she was kind, and that everyone was a friend she just hadn't met yet.

The fight was just a cherry on top of all of her confusion to the matter, for in the miscommunication she had allowed herself to doubt and fear, she'd let Vazi's words get to her and stain her.

But Beast, Vazi's creation, if she could go that far, was everything that called Vazi a liar. Even through the abuse, the harsh words, the torment....Beast was still sweet and caring.

She looked around, making sure the stag wasn't around, and said, "No, it's alright. Vazi is...fine. They go on trips more and more often, coming back only to check up on me."

When Beast asked if they could help, she smiled again, feeling more herself. "Yes, yes you can, my dear. You can tell me how well this garden is growing. Just look at those little trees, do they have names?"

@Beast