(backdated to christmas...ish, a day after this thread.)

White was practically shaking with excitement. With eyes wide, ears pricked and Caravaggio's gift by her paws she waited for her new friend to show himself by the Spire. She had made sure to thoroughly clean herself - she even tried to copy her mother's way of cleaning her tail feathers and for a very long time, the hybrid was twisted up and delicately biting and picking away at dust and dirt on her feathers.

She looked her best - which she knew Caravaggio would appreciate! But she also knew he'd appreciate her anyway. Because they were friends! Heart.

Though, she was getting a little worried now - White had already found a gift for Caravaggio and she was fairly certain that Caravaggio had also been on the hunt to find one. He hadn't exactly made it much of a secret, after all. What if his gift was better than hers?

The hybrid looked down, staring almost critically at the ornate white armlet. Without the time to even begin blaming it for being a potentially bad gift, she realised that it had to be clean too. She slid onto her belly and began licking and cleaning the bracelet.

It tasted gross - but it had to be clean for her friend. She couldn't give such a dirty thing to such a clean friend, after all. It would be a disgrace to Friendship Itself! And she was a good friend. They were good friends! Heart.

@Caravaggio

Well, he nearly died in his effort to get her the perfect gift, but here he was. With the multi-blossom blue flower in his teeth and the rock secured in a thin vine tied around his little horn nubbin - courtesy of the weird lemur - Caravaggio was prepared to return to White with his presents. He was a little scuffed up, some scrapes evident in his otherwise pristine coat, but he claimed them to be a testimony to his diligence. And... he wasn't the best at really healing his own wounds, the most he could really do was clean the mud and dust off of him and lick at his injuries until they stopped bleeding. In fact, he disdained the small cuts and scrapes criss crossing his legs and torso. He almost wanted to procrastinate seeinf White just so she wouldn't have to view his imperfections. But he promised her that he would come back with a gift. And he was going to keep that promise!

He found her exactly where he had left her, by the Spire, only there was something shiny in front of her and he narrowed his eyes, trying to discern what it was. It looked like a pretty, shiny gift too. Was someone else giving her gifts?! Was he too slow?! What was that! Where was this other person!! He would beat them up!!! The cow snorted and swung his head, pausing to search the surrounding area, only to find that they were definitely alone. A suspicious look was cast towards the gift. Then he realized that maybe it hadn't come from someone else, and suddenly he felt extremely silly, and weird about how possessive he just got. With a lash of his tail, he shrugged it away and trotted right up to her, throwing a charming smile over at the winged dog.

"I'm back!" He announced, in the process accidentally dropping the flowers from his maw. "Oh - um -" The cow cleared his throat and cocked his hoof over the flower, trying to hide it before he could rightfully present his gift.

@White

White was still trying to frantically clean the bracelet when she heard the sound of hoofsteps and, with a flick of her ears, she stood up and shook her white down-feathers. "Hi!" Wait-- was she supposed to say more than that? She wanted to tell him she missed him-- but what if he got the wrong idea?

...What was supposed to be the right idea?!

Before White could get properly caught up in her little predicament even more her smile dropped as she noticed the scrapes and small cuts covering Caravaggio's body. With ears flat against her skull she approached carefully. "What happened? You're hurt!"

She was half-tempted to lick the cow's wounds but, upon remembering Caravaggio wasn't a fan of physical contact, slinked away back to the bracelet, She shook herself once more before picking it up and presenting it to the cow.

"I got this for you!" the white hybrid said with her mouth full of ornate-armlet before she gently moved forth to nudge it closer to the cow.

@Caravaggio

The cow's eyes widened as she fretted over him and his wounds, at first caught off guard and startled into defensiveness, wishing that he'd never gotten scuffed up in the first place, until he realized that she was worried about him. Then he pursed his lips and struggled between the desire for her to fret over him more - he wouldn't mind being babied and cared for - and his fragile pride. In the end, pride had won out. She didn't seem to touch on the subject more, and while Caravaggio wanted to go into extensive detail about how he fought the golems, she was quickly moving on. He cleared his throat and decided that it didn't matter.

She plucked the armlet from the ground and deposited it before him, and the cow examined it with great curiosity before he was met with surprise and satisfaction all the same. So this gift was for him! And it was gorgeous! She got him another gift! She really wanted to be his friend, didn't she? And she cared! Nobody else cared like she did! This was... Oh no! She had gotten him two gifts now, and he - wait, no. He had two gifts. They were even! The cow smiled over at her, a wide one, probably the most sincere smile he'd ever made. "Thank you! This is a very nice gift." He peered back down at the armlet. It certainly was nice. But how did it work?

Oh whatever, he would figure it out later. The cow straightened up and blinked as if he had only just remembered his gifts for her. "Oh! And I got something for you." He spoke, lifting his hoof to reveal the little multi-panicle flower he had found with its bunches of blue petals. "This is a flower. See, it has little blue petals. And it smells nice." He nodded. And then he tilted his head and shook it until the rock tied in the thin root came loose and fell on the ground. "And this! This I found at the golem dam. It's for you too. It's a pretty rock. I thought you would like it." He explained, nudging the flower and the shiny rock - dull blue littered with gold sparkles - towards her.

@White

Caravaggio liked this gift - which meant that she was, truely, the absolute best at friendship. The feathers covering White's chest puffed up in pride, ears flickering. However, upon realising that Caravaggio had not one, but two gifts, she realised that crafty cow knew her plan this whole time!

She'd show him! She'd show him who was the ultimately best at friendship!!

...But later.

White had to admit she missed Gio a lot, and she appreciated the gifts he had gotten for her. She listened to his description of the items at hand, feathers fluffing up until her body was close to looking like a pearly-white loaf of bread. She nudged the shiny rock gently, speaking with a bird-like coo. "I love them!" She eyed the flower carefully.

White knew she had inherited her mother's sense of smell - that is to say, she couldn't smell shit. She didn't know what a nice-smelling thing was like (though she could gather it might have been the same type of nice as her gift) but regardless, she had to try.

The hybrid stuck her nose into the flower. She paused, before she removed her head, squinting slightly before an abrupt sneeze escaped her. The noise was not sneeze-like at all - it sounded more like a screaming goose which could no doubt be thanks to her avian heritage.

Regardless, White went wide-eyed in amazement at her own sneeze. "I-It's a cool flower!" she said before shaking herself right again, moving to sit next to Caravaggio with her head on his leg, half-wary of any cuts and scrapes.

"So?" she asked with eyes gleaming (and sniffling slightly). "Do you have any stories about how you got hurt?"

@Caravaggio

Caravaggio waited, almost anxiously, for the verdict. He wanted to just assume that she would like the gifts because he was just so good at picking out gifts for people (also, it was kind of obvious what he should do, that being to find a flower and a pretty rock for White). And yet he found himself worried, slightly, that she might not actually like them. It was a weird feeling because really, he didn't care what most thought, but White? He had tried so hard to take back what he said earlier about not wanting to be her friend. He DEDICATED himself to being her friend! What a blow to the ego it would be if she turned out to not like his gifts! Or worse... What if she suddenly decided she didn't even want to be his friend? What if she saw them and got offended?! No!! What a terrible fate!!

I love them!

Her sweet, avian voice came forward like a bell, and Caravaggio blinked out of his thoughts and looked at her, watching as she puffed up her soft feathers and nosed around the gifts. The cow grinned brightly at her and his short tufted tail swished back and forth. Hah! He knew she'd love them.

Then his proud puff deflated in half a second as White uttered a god awful honk, startling the cow into flinching and pinning his eyes to her, trying to understand what the sound was. She had just tried to sniff it, only it... Made her sneeze... Just like how Creedence sneezed... And sneezes were gross... BUT HE WOULD STRUGGLE THROUGH... White wasn't gross. And sure maybe her sneezes were nasty. But! That was okay! It was just one sneeze! He still liked her, and maybe he could teach her how to sneeze differently. Caravaggio was a master at sneezing and preventing the spread of germs and cooties. He sneezed like an angel.

The cocky smile returned and Caravaggio slowly let his nerves settle again, before she shuffled closer and sat next to him with her featherlight head resting on his limb. He barely even thought about it until he looked down and registered the physical contact, which made him stiffen with sudden nervousness. "A-ah- um- I might. W-would you like to hear about it? It is kind of scary." He stammered at first, amethyst gaze loftily glancing aside, but his impatient uncertainty (and quiet desire to impress her) invited him to look back down at her again.

@White

White tilted her head after a short pause. Gio seemed afraid, which for White, was a horribly odd thing to witness. Eventually though, she spoke. "If you're too afraid to live it over again it's okay." She glanced over the scrapes on the cow's legs, briefly. "I think it's really brave you went to the dam."

White paused again, thoughtfully. "You shouldn't get hurt for gifts, though," she said with ears flickering, before they flattened against her skull. There was a strange feeling forming in her stomach as she thought about it - Caravaggio facing against golems for a pretty rock and a flower - for her. She crinkled her nose. What was this feeling?

Was it cooties?

Oh god it was probably cooties.

White decided to keep quiet about her sudden infection - she was already touching Caravaggio which meant it was too late to evacuate now. They'd have to suffer with cooties together. "It kind of sucks that you got hurt. I wish I could help you."

She shifted and peered more closely at Caravaggio's legs and totally not his muscles, licking her jowls briefly. "Does it..." she paused, frowning. "Does it hurt?"

She kind of wanted the cow to tell her more about the dam, but she had officially decided that his physical health was probably a lot more important.

@Caravaggio

Caravaggio peered wide-eyed at the dog as she assured him he needn't relive it if it was too scary. That wasn't what he meant, but maybe it would play in his favor - he did want her to think he was brave and if the story was scary enough that she thought he didn't have to tell it, that just meant he'd be that much braver if he did! Yeah! And yet... She said that he was brave simply for having gone to the dam in the first place. He smiled ever so slightly, if a little smugly. Either way she thought he was brave, and really that was all he cared about. "It's okay. It was totally worth it." The cow answered nonchalantly, shrugging off her concerns. Okay. It wasn't really okay at the time. The first cut he gained he panicked for about five minutes. But she didn't need to know that.

His gaze had traveled away in the span of their quick silence, pondering over the armlet, and how he would start to tell his story since the conversation veered away from it. When she spoke again he tilted his head, glancing over the still fresh scrapes and cuts that marred his legs; they littered his sides and flanks, but were small and barely noticeable. "Nahh. It's nothing! Like I said, totally worth it." He reassured her with another grin. "Do you want to hear about the dam? Because now I really want to tell you about it. I just don't want to scare you because its, you know, kind of scary." May as well be straight forward, and besides, Caravaggio wasn't all that choked up about it.

@White

White turned her head briefly to preen one of her wings briefly before she shook herself. "How was it worth it?" she asked quietly, casually nudging the armlet towards Caravaggio. She glanced at the cow with a tilted head.

"Here, I can put it on for you," she offered as she lifted her rump off the ground and picked the ornate bracelet up. She held it closer to Caravaggio's face for a moment so he could see the little patterns and shapes carved into the bone-white armlet. "Lower your head a little."

If the command were obeyed, White would place the armlet onto one of Caravaggio's horn - though quite just as quick to take it back off should the cow begin throwing a fit about it for whatever reason.

Regardless, the hybrid sat back down. "Uncle Fisher says I am a fearless princess!" she said with wide eyes, a playful smirk crossing her face. "I'd like to hear your super scary story of bravery at the dam."

@Caravaggio

He cocked a brow at the bird-dog and his lips turned down, just for a moment, then back to a smile. "Because I got to make you smile! Didn't I?" Caravaggio laughed - the noise was baritone, rumbling through his chest despite the low uncertainty in the back of his mind. What if she was taking this too seriously? What if she was going to berate him for risking his life for her? Pff! Whatever, it was fine. She wouldn't do that. She wouldn't make him feel like a dope. He... put his faith in that. His dim amethyst eyes watched curiously as she grabbed the armlet, and as she offered to put it on, Caravaggio extended one of his legs, expecting her to somehow wrassle the armlet onto his ankle - instead, she lifted it up for him to see and his eyes widened, surprised by the proximity of the armlet to his face.

He didn't protest when she told him to lower his head, feeling somewhat stupid for thinking that it went on his leg. But, okay, whatever - he did as he was told, ducking his head slightly. He felt the armlet clang against his horn, and while the sensation was but a subtle bump, it felt like it resonated through his whole body - he shuddered at the feeling, even the contact White made around the flat of his head, and closed his eyes. All of his nerves were screaming to get rid of the thing, to jump up and run away. But he couldn't! He had to resist! And he did, fighting back the urge until it ebbed away.

With another grin, Caravaggio bit back his discomfort. He lifted his head again, careful not to displace the armlet and make it wriggle around. "It's a little big. But I think I'll grow into it." He said slowly, straining to lift his eyes to the side of his head, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn't see it. "Does it look okay?" Caravaggio licked his lips and found himself hankering to get a glimpse of the new addition to his horns in a reflection, but he was... comfortable here, and the thought of moving was actually... vexing. He would just have to trust in White's judgment. And considering that flawless, perfect aesthetic of hers, he actually trusted her quite a bit.

"Uncle Fisher?" He blurted again, confused - but it didn't matter. "Okay, okay. So. It all started when I was walking near the river. Actually, before that, I ran into this weird dog-" He paused and averted his eyes. "-not like you, you aren't weird, this one was - nevermind, it doesn't matter - anyways. After that I decided to go to the dam. I really wanted to go, ever since your dad told us not to. I saw a golem pick up one of the shards of that weird dog, since she just hatched, and take it to the dam. So that's why." Caravaggio nodded. He was terrible at telling stories. "I was making my way there when this lemur riding a deer threw a rope at my head. He nearly yanked my head off! But I pulled him off the deer instead, because I'm so strong. But then this lion showed up! And I was cornered! But I used my suave words and convinced them to help me. So off we went to the dam... and it was quiet, mostly. A few golems here and there. But they didn't really pay attention to us at first, I don't know why. So I started to climb the dam."

At this point, the cow started to speak lower, and slower, hoping to add a bit of tension to his story. "I was looking around for good rocks to bring you, and none of them really caught my eye... until I saw it. The rock. It was wayy up on the tippy top of the dam -" a few meters from the ground, really - "but even from that distance I could see its beauty! It was unrivaled! It was glorious! Like nothing I'd ever seen before! And I thought... it reminded me of you. So I had to get it." His eyes gleamed mischievously, a sly smile crossing his lips. "So up I climbed, with the lemur and the lion keeping guard. But then... I took a step, and the rock began to move! It was a golem, right beneath me!"

Pause for dramatics.

@White