On one side of canis's walls, among the piles of bones long-ago arranged into fortresses, there was a large stone hidden. It had been growing, gradually--swelling with the size of the creature within--but its vibrant blue-green was near-hidden beneath the same coating of dust and dried mud that covered the bones themselves.

The stone was cracking--softly, quietly. Over hours this continued, this piece and then that slowly giving way, until abruptly the chrysalis itself simply gave. The bottom and the front both fell to pieces, the small brown ball of fur within falling limply the foot or so into the bones.

He woke to the sound of clattering, unsure what it was. He had not been conscious until this point--and now he was born into a strange world, lifting his head (and this took effort) to blink deep brown eyes around at what lay around him.

Bones... as far as the eye could see; all brown and grey and white. The faint fear of the newly-hatched gripped him, and he curled back on himself, emitting a single pleading cry.

He didn't know who he was, where he was, or what to do. He only knew that he was confused, and afraid.

It felt like no time had passed. Maeve knew objectively that it had – when she had entered her second chrysalis, she had been little more than a gangly filly, all knock kneed and timid and now she was as fully grown as she could hope to be. She wondered where her friend Eve was, if she was still around or if she had passed on her gemstone to another.

The pale mare wandered through Canis, lost in thought. She had grown so accustomed to ignoring the faint crack of brittle ancient bone dust and fragments beneath her hooves that she almost missed the subtle sound of a different kind of cracking. She paused in her wandering’s, pricking her ears in the direction of the sound as it continued. After a moment of indecision, Maeve reached for her magick, fighting against the many cycles of disuse until she was able to pull a meager about of shadow to help lessen the impact of her golden hide against the relative darkness as she approached.

Maeve had never witnessed the hatching of another Gembound, despite her advanced age, so it hadn’t immediately occurred to her what the cracking sound had been. It was only when her gaze fixed on the helpless bear cub that she was able to put two and two together. A soft, "oh" of surprise escaped her charcoal lips and she dropped the Dissipate spell, letting the few scraps of darkness she had pulled together fade away. At his plaintive cry, she strode toward the cub with new purpose and quickly reached him.

"Hey there little one," she breathed softly as she extended a muzzle in his direction, nostrils flared gently. "You doin’ alright?"

Maeve wasn’t sure if she should expect an answer from him or not, and quickly began to cast her gaze over him to check for any injuries or abnormalities.

@Sergei

The bear cub nudged a bone, which clattered away quietly. He moved to mouth it, to taste it, licking it curiously--and suddenly, drifting from the shadows and seeming to emerge from them, was a huge creature of a color not unlike the darker bones.

Sergei cried out in fear and tumbled back, racing a bit over the bones, near-missing what the mare said--but upon hearing her gentle voice he paused.

He still moved away, but-... backwards, and more slowly; and after a moment, he stopped. He certainly fled the kindly-offered muzzle by a long shot.

She seemed... well, he didn't know much about the world, but she didn't seem hostile, at least. She wasn't killing him, which was nice.

The bear cub watched the horse, watched the outstretched muzzle, and for a moment he mulled her words over in his mind. He had little idea what they actually meant, but the beginnings of what was almost a distant recollection, an inborn knowledge, began to kindle within him. In the manner of many young creatures, he began by mimicking.

"...Heeeeey," he offered. His voice was high-pitched, young, and filled with hesitation. He had no idea what the word meant, but he parroted it nonetheless, wavering as he stood there. He was half-tempted to approach, and half-convinced it would be a very bad idea, but he was far too curious to flee. And anyway, here was the first living being he'd seen--there was something achingly lonely about the idea of rushing off alone into the empty bone piles.

There seemed, too, to be nothing abnormal about him--he was very fluffy, his dark eyes bright with health.

@Maeve

Though Maeve had not quite known what to expect, she did feel slightly disheartened as the cub cried out and attempted to flee from her company. A worried frown pulled her mouth down and she withdrew half an inch, unsure if she should wait it out or leave the new Gembaby to his own devices. She couldn’t bring herself to be that cold hearted. Predator or not, he was still a helpless infant that needed some sort of guidance and she certainly didn’t see anyone else trying to shoulder her out of the way for the position.

The palomino sucked in a deep breath of resolve, just as the cub gave his first attempt at speech. His mimicry was rewarded by a warm smile, as sunshine-y as her coat and she pulled back a little, giving him a little more space.

"Yeah! Hey there, little guy!" She bobbed her head, and then immediately realized she wasn’t exactly sure what to do next. Her memories of the first few moments with Eve were a little hazy, but she did distinctly remember being propositioned with an earthworm.

"Are ya hungry?" Maeve wasn't exactly sure what to feed him if he was, but she figured she could figure that out next. Maybe some fish lived in the water?

@Sergei

The bear cub remained unhesitating in his dedication to hesitation. Every sense was turned toward the horse as he crouched there, trembling--his nose quivered, his brown eyes fixed dolefully on her. They were beady in his fluffy face. His rounded ears rotated, but returned to her again and again; his head slowly shifted around as if he'd find a better vantage point within his few inches of reach.

She looked--kind. And her smell was nice; where the bones were dry and lifeless, the horse held a warm and friendly odor. He couldn't quite describe why it was friendly, but it was. And as for hearing, well--her voice was warm and gentle.

Slowly, Sergei took a few stumbling steps forward, repeating Maeve's last word. "Hungry," he squeaked quietly. The word rang some kind of bell in his mind, and suddenly he realized that yes, he was hungry. His stomach growled audibly, and a haze of some as-yet-unknown instinct plowed through his mind.

Excited and energized, his slow and stumbling shamble turned into a slow and stumbling gallop. He raced toward the horse, possibly bouncing right off her, before bouncing around excitedly. Each time his four paws landed in the clattering bones, a single beeped word escaped him: "Hungry! HUNGRY! HUNGRY hungry hungry hungry!"

@Maeve

She waited with baited breath, both ears keenly pointed toward the cub. As he stumbled toward her, she cocked her head at the clarity with which he repeated her word. Her acute hearing afforded her the tiniest of tummy growls from his direction and she laughed delightedly, tossing her head. The newly hatched cub hurried towards her in his rolling gait, and she watched with amusement as he galloped around her.

"Okay, okay, I gotcha bud," Maeve said while chuckling. She turned away from the cub, being careful to pick up her hooves to avoid stepping on him as he bounced about and trotted toward the quiet water. She had never eaten meat herself. It didn’t hold any sort of appeal to her, but he had every look of a would be predator, and at any rate, there really weren’t any plants here either. With the smallest wrinkle of distaste across her lips she waded into the water, attempting to corral fish into a corner where she could snatch one.

The ripples from her initial dip into the water sent them scattering, their forms only dark shadows against the slightly lighter flooring below. Carefully she herded them toward the shore, swishing back and forth through the water until she felt like she was just going in circles. Finally a fish grew too bold, lingering just slightly behind the others and too close to the shore. Maeve didn't waste the opportunity, and lacking any sort of claws or predatory appendages, settled for slamming her forelegs on either side of the fish and flopping into the water, trapping it between her forelegs.

"Hah!" She called out triumphantly, grinning like a mad fool while the trapped fish flopped between her legs. It made a mad dash toward the inch deep water closer to shore to try to escape and a sound of dismayed surprise escaped her. Panicked, she went to bite the fish, grabbing its tail fin before flipping it onto shore and immediately glaring in it's direction for it's audacity at trying to escape.

Awkwardly she rose back onto her feet, half of her body now dark tan in coloration with the water and shuffled toward the cub. Panting slightly, she motioned toward the fish and spoke, "try that on for size, yeah?"

@Sergei

Sergei watched as the horse began to slowly trot off, and quickly--and with a quiet grunt of protest--he followed. When she paused, he nearly collided with her hocks, and then scrambled back, wondering what had stopped them--was it dangerous? But no--she was... What was she doing?

The young cub watched, intently. The horse was stalking the water--he wasn't even sure what water was, let alone what might be in it! Cautiously he turned, mimicking her, taking up his own position a few yards distant at the shoreline. He studiously peered into the water, stealing glances up at Maeve to copy her technique; when she waded a few paces in, the bear dutifully did so as well. He saw a dark shape just beneath the surface--a shadow, slipping past--and quickly pulled back with an alarmed expression. And then he saw his own reflection just below--and found himself fascinated by that, instead, peering worriedly at the furry brown face that apparently peered at him from underwater. After a moment he plunged his head under the surface and peered--but no, it was just him. He pulled out again, dripping, the ripples disrupting this image of himself as he tried to more closely examine it.

Then, suddenly, there was a fish.

Maeve was speaking, and the bear cub realized she was tossing a big, flipping thing about on shore. Instinct again flickered up in Sergei, and the bear cub trundled rapidly back onto dry land--but the thing was scary. It was violent and desperate, and the cub hesitated for a moment.

"Try that on for size, yeah?" Maeve was saying.

Sergei understood the meaning, at least, and with a worried glance up at the gentle horse, he realized he had to try and kill the thing. Not that he understood, yet, anything so complex as life and death.

He waddled forward, again hesitating, and then charged clumsily in.

The fish flopped. Its tail slapped Sergei in the face, and he recoiled.

He lunged in with tiny jaws open, a spark of fighting spirit flaring up. Predatory urge guided him, damping his fear with enthusiasm, as the fish flopped about, and his little clawed paws tore at it.

Shining scales glinted as it arced, trying one last time to escape, and then the bear was battering it, leaping on it and ripping at it. After a moment, it finally went still, and with a grunt Sergei began to tear flesh from bone. The taste was delicious, and the bear cub began to make satisfied sounds as he ate.

Completely absorbed, for a time, he almost forgot Maeve; when he remembered her he glanced sharply around and then up, eyeing her earnestly as he chewed. He swallowed, and then stared.

He'd have liked to have said "thank you," perhaps, or to ask who she was, but his words had not fully formed just yet. Instead, he thought about things, about just what he could say.

"Sergei," he decided on at last, and with a cheerful shake of his ruff, went back to eating.

@Maeve

Maeve, initially, was preoccupied with scraping the taste of fish scales off of her tongue rather than watching the bear cub's first attempt at being a predator. She looked up just in time to see the look of alarm cross his fluffy face as the fish continued to flop against the ground. Her blue eyes rested on the flopping fish, unsure of how she felt about assisting in any sort of hunting. Normally the sight of anything with canines the shape of the cub's had her hide raising and her feet tip-tapping toward the fastest escape route. There was something about the little guy though; his fluffy shape hadn't yet raised any alarm bells in her and she was enjoying the companionship, despite it's currently one sided nature.

Within a moment however, his reticence disappeared. Once he got his bearings with the flopping creature, he seemed to dig in with relish, and only the daintiest of grimaces slid across her lips before she hid the expression away. She didn't want to give him the impression she disliked him, after all, he couldn't help what his body craved.

Feeling more than a little awkward, she pointed looked away from the cub, although she kept one ear tipped in his direction in case he needed her for something else. Her gazed wandered over the bony mosaic pattern of the ground, wondering how many generations of gembounds had passed through these halls. When he spoke again, it was not a word she was familiar with, and it took her a moment of consideration to realize he was giving her his name - the same way she had blurted her name out to Eve.

"Well hello there Sergei, it's nice to meet you." She grinned again, watching as he went back to his meal with vigor.

"I'm Maeve. Did I tell you that already? I guess not. I take it you like the fish then? It was a guess, but it seems like I guessed right..." she trailed off awkwardly, switching her tail against her hocks. Absent she tried to brainstom what to do next; what else would a baby gembound need? A nap maybe? They had water here, and to be honest, Maeve didn't really know of any good places for resting unless they made the trek back to one of the other caves. Sergei didn't look like he could lock his knees like she could to sleep.

@Sergei

As the mare spoke, Sergei stripped the last few bits of fish clumsily from its bones. He ate with relish, but one ear was toward Maeve, as hers had been toward him, and he glanced at her relatively attentively between swallows. Finally he finished, and looked around. The food was in his belly, there to help him grow; likewise the words she fed him now lay in his head, to nourish his mind.

For a time, he considered what she had said. He wasn't sure what it all meant, but he was pretty confident that he had a handle on "fish," which was important, and "Maeve"--was that her?

"Maeve," he tried out, his new-hatched pronunciation skewing the name a little. He began to toddle over, sniffing up to the small horse, his fear of her forgotten.

"Fish," he tried, and then, with earnesty--"Yes fish, nice." He then trundled over to try and touch his nose to hers, sniffing in a more animalistic sort of greeting, though it was certainly heartfelt enough. He was content--fed, and warm. That being said, he did now stink of fish.

His behavior also didn't helpfully tell her more of what his needs might be, but perhaps he was simply, for now, fulfilled.

@Maeve