Sometimes, Scarborough wondered what the outside world was like. He had never gotten the chance to run off and explore, and it was only the Lorekeeper's stories that told him anything of substance about the caves. Sometimes other gems would stop by, but he always felt like they did it out of pity more than anything else.

As of late, the large, Canis-bound hybrid found his imagine of all things going a bit haywire. He had started to drift off into daydreams, imagining all sorts of unlikely things. His uncle, Bones, often drew different creatures-- and some subconscious part of his mind took those drawings and manipulated them into the wide open world of dreams.

For now, the polarbear-esqe beast scratched at the dry earth, doodling absently while his mind was elsewhere.

Often times, Bones would find himself pitying creatures like his nephew Scarborough and the Lorekeeper. They were the only two creatures the dog knew about that were even worse off than he was when it came to the moving-department - they had to be dragged along by other gembounds and haven't ever left Canis.

Bones took it upon himself - as crippled as he was - to hunt for them. He had already fed the Lorekeeper for the day, the deformed canine creature ate quickly and fell asleep with barely a "thank you" leaving her maw; and so it was time to feed Scarborough.

The painted dog limped towards where the polar-dog usually was with a scrawny rat in his jaws. He placed it down next to the dog and affectionately licked his muzzle - an instinctive guesture his mother was often scolding him for doing.

"Hello," he said cheerfully, sitting down. "How are you doing, Scarborough?"

The truth was, Bones was often happy to see his nephew. This gembound was related by blood to his dearest friend and brother, Kerberos, and he was happy for them - though he wasn't too sure if they were happy themselves. Regardless, Bones took to grooming the deformed hybrid's coat.

Scarborough was lost deep in his doodling when the sound of pawprints caught his attention. One ear flicked up and he swept his massive, thick skull towards the sound, words already coming to his tongue: leave me alone! Yet when he was met with the friendly face of his uncle Bones, carrying a tiny scrap of prey to him, he couldn't help but crack a tired smile.

Bones dropped the mouse at his paws and gave him a customary greeting lick, one that Scar didn't feel like giving back-- poor Bones didn't need to be covered in saliva. Instead, he let out a small, barking laugh. "Heh! Same old, same old. You know me, Bones. How are you feeling?" Perhaps it was the fact that they shared a similar condition-- but Scarborough was incredibly fond of the painted dog. It was just as likely that the constant gifts of food was tempering his mood significantly.

Almost immediately the big lug snuffled at the scrawny rat and started chewing on the tail absently-- he didn't want to shovel his face full of food mid-conversation.

Bones allowed himself to settle next to his nephew; lips pulled back into a smile. He studied the doodled in the dust that the hybrid had done with a tilted head. "I'm alright," the dog said thoughtfully. "My legs don't feel so bad today." He added the last part with a little more enthusiasm, but Bones knew fine well that it wasn't necessarily a sign that he would get better.

They hadn't gotten better in the last seven cycles, after all.

Bones licked the blood left over from the rat on his maw. "Are you drawing?" he asked, curiously. He had wanted to share his love for art with another gembound, but he never really had the chance to.

Kerberos was too impatient for it - Giggle had no interest in it. Scarborough, the gembound with similar disabilities to him, would probably pick it up easily. Bones' ears flickered thoughtfully as he turned his gaze to the closest wall, though quickly looked back at the hybrid before he could be caught out for not giving him undivided attention.

@Scarborough

The hybrid was glad to hear that Bones was feeling well, it seemed almost random to him whether his legs were okay or not, though it was more likely due to strain or lack of use. "Glad to hear it," he replied gruffly, nudging the rat aside for now as Bones settled down. They could have a bit of conversation, and that would be most welcome.

Scarborough had scratched a deep, rough circle in the ground, with plenty of nonsensical lines and curves around it-- they had been idly done, but when Bones noticed them, the nephew straightened slightly and rubbed his paw over them as though to brush them away.

"That? Oh, it's nothing. I was just... scribbling." He brushed off absently, putting on a sheepish grin.

Bones felt his ear flatten as Scarborough erased his drawings; it hadn't been anything that he had seen before. While Bones only draws what he has seen, his nephew was.. creating. He had made something new, something only he knew about, and just like that he had taken it away and dismissed it as 'scribbling.'

The dog pressed his nose against the hybrid, briefly. "I thought it was great," he said quietly. "You should add it to the wall." He nodded towards the wall, lifting himself up to briefly touch his nose against the cave wall.

His tail flickered briefly and he looked back at Scarborough. "I can catch another rat for you if you want to eat that one."

@Scarborough

Scarborough let out a great, heaving sigh at Bones' gentle encouragement. Of course his kind, caring uncle would say such things. At the suggestion that he should add his doodles to the wall, however, his feathery crest puffed up and his wings and paws shifted uneasily. He batted his eyes-- all four of them-- and stumbled for his words.

"What? But compared to your paintings, I just make nonsense. It would be a disgrace to the walls themselves," he retorted, being a bit indignant and hyperbolic if only to voice how he felt about the idea. His attention quickly turned back to the rat, and he hummed and hawed for a moment. "But... if you insist, Bones. I am a bit hungry." More hungry than he would admit, but that was just how it was. It would be unreasonable to ask anyone to haul him what his appetite asked for.

Besides, his magic fueled by rat-snacks kept him enough alive, anyway.

Bones shook his head sternly. "They're special," he said. He was fairly convinced that this was the case. "They're new and different and others should be able to see them."

He gave an affectionate lick to Scarborough's forehead, between his upper eyes. "Eat up," he said. "I'll catch what I can." He turned, tail swaying contentedly, and hobbled off.

Bones was not gone long - a short but successful hunt later he was limping back, perhaps considerably more tired, but it certainly meant a lot to him to teach Scarborough how to express himself. He meant every word he said, after all - that he was special and unique. Perhaps ten minutes or so later another rat was placed by Scarborough's paws and Bones sat himself down, gazing at the wall.

"You shouldn't doubt yourself," he said quietly, still somewhat breathless from the hunt. "You make good things and not nonsense."

@Scarborough

Scarborough was either polite enough or simply respected his uncle enough to just nod in response, watching only briefly as the canine wandered off, tail wagging. It was good to see Bones in such a good mood, and if his absent scratches in the ground could do that, he supposed it wasn't too bad.

He scooped the rat back over to the forefront of his attention and dug in, making quick work of the cave rat. It was nothing but bones by the time his similarly named Uncle had returned, and with a few quick chomps it was only brittle, tiny shards. Scar had developed a love on marrow; it was a shame that most bones in Canis had dried up a long time ago.

"Of course you would say that," Scar huffed, though he still cracked a grin. "... I was thinking what it would be like if I had formed differently. If I was more wing then heavy bone and muscle, like Aza'zel-- or more like you and Kerberos. I didn't get any of the shapes right in my drawing though, it just looked like squiggles."

Bones' ears flicked thoughtfully. He gazed at Scarborough, trying to imagine him more like Bevy, but the image wouldn't come to him. It seemed too odd to see the hybrid as more bird-like. Briefly, he licked his nose. "You'd look a lot like Kerberos with one head," he tilted his head. "I think you're great the way you are."

He looked back at the wall. "It's okay to make mistakes when you paint, too," He licked his muzzle again, wiping away excess blood from the freshly dead rat at the hybrid's feet. "It's your choice what you draw, and if you make a mistake you can turn it into something else big and beautiful."

He nodded and lay down, watching the hybrid with a patient smile.

@Scarborough