The white stag moved quietly, each footstep delicately-placed. His head was up, the silver-tined antlers branching skyward to brush the leaves as he made his way through the thick ferns and grass.

It had proved harder than he'd expected to once again find Mercurius's little grove. Eridanus was a heavily-forested jungle, and finding one small garden in the midst of that was--hard. He'd spent many cycles here without ever happening upon it in the first place, and though he knew the place's general area, pinpointing it was surprisingly difficult. Pride spent several hours picking through the deer-trails here, nosing his way into thickets and finding himself disappointed every time.

It was only late in the evening when he at last came upon it, and he knew it at once: the lush, overgrown plants where they'd been carefully planted and tended, the wall of foliage so thick it formed a barrier to wholly hide the inside of the grove from the forest without.

Cautious, nostrils flaring to take scent, he stepped inside. His head dipped so as to pass his antlers through the entrance, and he called out gently, in his melodic, fluting voice.

"Mercurius? Are you here..?"

With him came a roil of gentle fog: a thin mist that spread white as a rolling carpet along his path. The plants had seemed to enjoy it, last time; as had their gardener, and Pride felt as though bringing it with him again might be a kind gesture.

@Mercurius

After Pride left and the pale lion returned from getting a drink and deciding to bathe himself, Mercurius had spent his time simply tending to his garden. He gently pulled weeds from the beds, munching on them easily with the aid of his magicka. The overgrown plants were left to their own whims. They had decided upon this, and would continue to live through their choice. It gave a wild sort of quality to the grove.

Mosses and soft blades of grass were beckoned from the earth, forming a set of soft beds in the western side of the sanctuary. One of the beds was smoothed out, a frequent resting place for the beast. The other was still yet unused, waiting. Untamed.

He had been tending to the trefoils in his garden, gently drawing a hefty paw over their leaves and admiring a particular one; it had four leaves, growing well above the others. A smile had formed upon his face as a voice stole through the serenity, yet did not break it. Magickally-fueled mist spread across the new arrival's hooves, and Mercurius chimed, "oh, come in! Come in!" A shot of energy moved through his horns as he beckoned forth a welcoming, cleansing sort of vibe from them. A gesture of good will, if one would.

"It is good to see you again, neighbor," he smiled softly to the deer, a breathy chuckle edging his words with amusement. "You seem well! I've been busy tidying up what I could and I," Mercy paused to flick his tail toward the unused bed, "have been working on some better accommodations, you see. Moss is far more tender than stone and dirt and, perhaps, makes for better storytelling." Well, it was unproven, but an idea nonetheless.

@Pride

Pride stepped delicately into the thicket, a single glance around enough to settle his expression into one of pleased contentment. "It is more beautiful than ever," he assured the lion, tone heartfelt. "And as for an improvement in storytelling--well, I had best bed down at once, then. I suspect I shall need it. I've been working on a story--but I do not know how good it is. I feel as though I've moved from topic to topic in search of a good tale, and woven one together but clumsily. I feel I cannot see it as it truly is." The unspoken implication was that he hoped that Mercurius could see it more clearly than he.

The stag took a moment to pace around, a flick of his tail and warm glance to Mercurius his only thanks for the touch of warm magic. He wasn't sure what it had been, but it had been pleasant. He circled the grove, inspecting the arranged plants, the newly-grown ones, the overgrown tangles. Each he admired, taking his time, his attention showing his appreciation.

At length, he glanced back to the white lion. "You have been working on it. It is good to see such love for a place--I've never seen anything like it. It is good to see you, too," he added, with a warm look.

With that he paced toward the spare, untouched moss bed, and began to sniff delicately over it, before carefully placing one pointed gray hoof into its soft surface. A moment later and he'd turned and settled down in it, ears flicking back and expression pleased.

"Ahh... you have outdone yourself. I hope you don't mind that I just make myself at home, so," he said with humor, and an amused glance at his friend.

@Mercurius

"Ah, I'm grateful it fulfilled its purpose, then," Mercy crooned warmly, ambling over to his own bed and preparing to settle down. Circling himself and kneading at the mosses, he offered gentle words of encouragement for the deer, "I doubt it, Pride. You've a way with words, regardless of whether or not you think so. We're all a little biased against ourselves—it's hard not to be." Settling to watch the pale cervid glide about the grove, Mercurius pressed, "besides, it's your first story. New emergences must get onto their feet before they can run."

The praise offered was taken lightly and humbly, as Mercurius eased down onto his rear first and then his elbows. His paws tucked close to his chest, disappearing a little into his scarce mane. "I figured it could be homelier and still wild," he smiled softly, nodding, "do you have any requests for a meal? I prefer lamb's ear. It's soft and a little tart, but interesting." Of course, had he not been a feline, he would sample the sweeter notes of it as well. "Another favorite of mine is just plain grass, if that suits your fancy." Curiously, he primed his magicka, gathering it into an intangible mass.

Moonlit eyes swam with a sense of warmth as the deer lay in the bed and made himself comfortable. "You're always welcome to make yourself at home here, you know," the beast chimed softly, tail flicking in amusement, "even if I'm not around. Even if you wish to bring other friends along. I only ask that they respect the plants and not, for lack of better wording, 'trash the place.'" A chuckle as punctuation revealed the joking nature of his words. Pride did not seem to be the sort to hang out with that crowd, too refined and graceful to unintentionally do any harm.

@Pride

Pride settled himself in the moss bed, listening attentively to Mercurius. For a brief moment, some part of him regretted not having simply come to listen to another tale. Yes, he was somewhat excited to tell his own, but Mercurius' stories were... enriching.

As to food--hmm.

"I will--try the lamb's ear, I suppose. I do not think I have had it. And as to your offer of being a guest at my whim," he added solemnly, "I do thank you for it. Perhaps I may visit on occasion, but I will not bring another here without very good reason, don't fear. And if I did, it would most certainly be with full respect toward the plants; I will guard them as I would my own home, as if they were the fruits of my own efforts." He briefly remembered Karma, the young tawny deer, and wondered with some bittersweet errant thought whether she was now, like him, fully-grown. They had lost one another as mere fawns, but he had sensed a kindred spirit in her too. Perhaps she was like Mercurius--gentle, warm, and off tending her own garden somewhere. She had had an adventurous streak, but he could imagine it in her.

Perhaps they would meet again, some day.

Pride sighed softly and looked back toward the white lion, apology in his face and tone. "My apologies, a little bit of reminiscing, there. Aside from tending the plants--has all been well, with you?" It was politely asked, but genuine as well; he did concern himself with Mercurius' well-being.

@Mercurius

Mercurius nodded, acknowledging Pride's choice of food, but continuing to listen. His focus was momentarily diverted as he called upon a pang of magicka, beckoning it to emerge between the deer's hooves. As commanded, the delicate leaves pierced pebbly earth, flourishing at his whim. "I appreciate it a lot," the pale beast enforced softly, a smile upon his features as he watched the small meal grow. Once it had gotten to be a bit of a mouthful, Mercy urged the spell to cease and dissipate elsewhere. It would be a little bit stored for later, indeed.

As it seemed, the deer had gone a little distant into his own mind, which the lorespinner had no qualms about. He, himself, tended to disappear into his own wistful little reveries, considering unseen fantasies --- and, sometimes, nightmarish flashes into the past. "No need to apologize," chirped the pale beast, flicking an ear dismissively, gently.

Regardless, a question had been asked of him, of his own well-being, and a choice had been presented unwittingly: honesty or a slight spin of truth? Mercurius himself had been well, but he worried. Worried for the wellness of his companion, Faelan. There had been no hide or hair seen of the golden feline in the past few weeks he had been awake. With a weary old sigh, the storyteller caved, "I am well physically, but I worry for the well-being of an old friend. Faelan? I'm unsure of if you've met him. He is a lion like me, golden like sand with a blue gemstone on his right paw, I believe." Moonlit eyes traced the curve of his own paw, overgrown claws protruding from his toes. "He is a fighter, though. I hope he is well."

I hope that he wasn't attacked again, his thoughts completed softly with a note of finality, and that I wasn't there to heal him that time.

@Pride

Pride listened with some concern, and for a moment he scoured his own thoughts. But he could remember no tawny lions in his past, and after a moment, he gently shook his head.

"It isn't a name I know, nor have I met him. I'm sorry," he added, quietly. "I hope that he's all right. I've had a few I've met, with whom I'd have loved to stay in contact, but I've unfortunately lost them." He looked away, for a moment, and then back to Mercurius with a little shake of his head. He then glanced down to the lamb's ear, and by way of a strange little toast, he spoke. "Well, here's to finding old friends, then--alive and well." He took a little nibble of the plant, hardly more than a single bite, and rocked back into the moss as he lifted his head and chewed. Pale grey eyes regarded Mercurius for a moment, distant in his own thoughts. He really did hope that they each found their friends, and alive and well, at that. It was a strange thing to simply... lose someone, and to be unable to find them again, ever-worrying for their well-being.

Pride swallowed the half-bitten leaf. "If he is a fighter, I imagine he is well." He shifted in place a little. "Well, then--shall I tell you my story? It isn't too far off the topic of loneliness, and the impermanence of life," he added, with a little incline of his head--as if to acknowledge the grief that ran concurrent with the act of simply being alive.

@Mercurius

He had been, somehow, a little hopeful for the pale deer to have seen his companion --- his lover, even. Mercurius allowed his emotions to falter only a little, as he shook his head. "It's okay," he assured Pride and himself. Instead, eager to change the subject a little, he turned to the gathering of wheatgrass at his side and nodded.

The previously gathered magicka in his being flowed around him once more as he leaned down to the nibble on the grasses himself. He thought nothing of the act, but it would seem very strange to see a sharp-toothed beast eagerly munching on some grass. Mercurius paused for a moment, allowing his magic to seep through his body before he haphazardly gnashed the mouthful of grass against his molars and swallowed it. Once his mouth wasn't full, he asked, "what do you think of it?" To indicate what 'it' was, he glanced down at the lamb's ear.

But the subject was soon dropped to make way for eagerness and excitement as he shuffled side to side. Getting comfortable like a child awaiting a bedtime story, Mercurius tilted his head, "it already sounds fantastic. I would love for you to tell it." He could almost, faintly, see a light from the deer. It may have been a trick of the eye, but he took it as a bit of nostalgia. Suddenly, he felt young again, lying in the garden and eagerly listening to Her stories.

@Pride

Pride gave a little nod, his expression pleased.

"I do, though the texture is--strange," he decided after a moment, his tone one of admission. It wasn't a good feel to have in his mouth, this odd fuzziness, and he would likely avoid this plant if he had other options. But for trying something new, it wasn't bad, and the taste itself wasn't terrible.

On to the story, though.

He rocked back some, antlers scraping the air above, and flicked his ears back as he settled himself into the right mood. Dreamy, creative, content--ready to elaborate and spin his yarn most richly.

His voice melodic as ever, but now possessive of a haunting, distant quality--as if to draw the listener into the tale itself, and to forget Pride's existence--he began.

"In the beginning, long ago, before life or rain or dreams, there was only stone. But this stone was gem, of all the kinds of the universe, and so everything was... beautiful." A pause, his gray eyes half-closed. As ever, each word was precisely-chosen, slowly and carefully enunciated, and so for a lover of stories, it was easy to savor each part. "All was perfect and crystalline, and every facet and shard glinted with multi-hued light. The glow of the tunnel spheres filled the world with its blinding beauty, and this shivered and shimmered through the gems, so that all was slivers of ruby cast across sapphire, or shifting emerald dancing over the sparking shine of a diamond."

"The universe was once one mind, one soul, one magic: and it was quiet, then. But as it split and fractured into a thousand thousand crystals, it began to think amongst itself. Crystal and stone is above all else, unchanging: and for an eternity, the universe was content with this. But as a single mind can think among itself--debating whether to eat, or rest, or whether it likes to swim despite the cold after all, so did the crystals think. They thought and considered, but it was all as one mind, and it grew lonely. The crystalline existence was interminable, even in its beauty; its stone perfection was unchanging, and this infinity of stasis became unbearable. Obsidian whispered of change; topaz murmured of chaos. The pale blue apatite sang of shifting waters, a concept alien to the universe, and this captured its imagination; dreams came into existence, and the universe dreamed of seas and rivers. With this yearning, it soon made up its mind."

Pride paused, closing his eyes fully now, trying to remember how his tale went. He was making little changes to it, here and there--tweaking it as he went--but, he thought, overall he wasn't doing terribly. He was taking pleasure in its telling, too, contentedly going over the details, weaving it and laying it out for Mercurius to see like a true work of art, like something he had himself created--and he had, hadn't he?--and was happily sharing away.

"Slowly, the world-stone began to mold itself, to spend its beauty and its magic and its color in pursuit of change. But change meant destruction of what was, and slowly, one by one, the crystals began to crack." His eyes opened, dramatic. "The muddy jasper and the smoky quartz crumbled away to form rich soil. The sapphire melted into the roiling sea of Fornax, and the apatite trickled--ever-singing--through Eridanus as its brooks and creeks. (And that is why the waters hum and murmur, to this day.) The great emerald and the rich, thick jade became the flourishing plants that spread throughout the world. White stone breathed into the air to become the mist and fog. These gems, that gave themselves to creation, went still and dark, with only slender threads of color remaining in the vast walls of dull rock that remained. Yet now there was change, after the pain of creation had ended, and for a time, the universe was content."

"It watched as the plants spread, and grew; it watched as the waters carved away stone, here and there. As the fog gathered, and dispersed, and as rain poured down, only to dry away again, and fall in torrents somewhere else. There was beauty in it, and a beauty, too, in its rhythm--yet it was a pattern ever-repeated, and again, the world grew hungry for change."

Pride again paused, no hurry to his tale-telling, and shifted in place a little before continuing. He was only a little distracted by just how comfortable this bed of moss was beneath him. "At last, a breath passed through the caves. It was a sigh: a great, soft, cool exhale of a mother-spirit, the soul of reality and of creation itself, born of the universe's yearning and loneliness and from the gifts it had already given to the world. And the remaining gemstone resonated with this, reached for it, yearning and pleading and giving itself to the magic in this breath."

"The magic coalesced. In the threads of color that lingered in the stone, life grew. Here and there the rock shattered, and new creatures tumbled forth: wolves and birds, horses and fish, stags and lions. The universe and its magic took root in all of them, taking all of these forms, and yet in each--as each was birthed from the stone--the universe could no longer feel its own truths, the vast reality of its single cosmos, its one being. Its unity." Pride looked solemnly to Mercurius. "Instead it saw through each pair of new eyes: the fear of the rat, the hunger of the hawk, the patience of the snake. And as each creature eventually perished, the universe remembered all of its experiences, and it marvelled: for here was true change. True chaos. And it, too, was beautiful. The magic of reality had woven itself into each of these beings, each one but a shard of the world's magic, and each experienced reality anew."

"Each creature was the universe, existence, the whole of the world--experiencing itself." Pride paused again, to let this sink in, and then he continued.

"And so it has continued even to today: the seams of glittering color split, and spill forth new life, for the universe to dream and learn. And sometimes, these dreamers, these storytellers, these Gem-bound--they come to understand that they are they--that each individual life--is but another glinting facet of the soul of the universe. And though they are but one facet, there is nothing more important: for now, the universe is not a single and lonely world of stone, as beautiful and perfect and crystalline as that might be."

"Now it is a dancing tapestry of color--each gem given flesh and form, to move and think and create, to destroy and learn and teach, for existence itself to experience, for the first time, growth. We are the universe dreaming," he finished softly--and then bowed his head, hoping he had not come across too foolish, hoping that there was some thread of something to cling to in his tale.

There was no real metaphor in it, no lesson; it was a simple enough and straightforward creation myth. But he hoped beyond hope that Mercurius would find it a good one.

@Mercurius

"That's a fair judgement," the lion rumbled, continuing to feed on the wheatgrass at his side. As soon as he began to see the deer settle down, however, Mercurius swallowed his mouthful and gave his undivided, enraptured attention.

And, soon, the pale beast realized that Pride had chosen a simple, but beautiful creation myth. He spun that there was once only a stone. A stone born of many others. Each word was chosen, clear and crystalline yet allowing for a world's interpretation within the mind. The pale beast could already see a shimmering network of crystals, not yet bound to any magic or flesh. They folded in on one another, an endless fractal that consumed himself.

Then that fractal shattered, breaking beautifully into millions, becoming not one, but many. A beginning to the gembound, perhaps? These many stones were infinite and found it boring, not pleased with the stillness of simple thought. Mercurius alluded this to chrysalises, perhaps, and the first of those gembound. These chrysalises birthed primal elements, he realized. Magicka swelled across the Caves and they became the world --- perhaps theirs --- that these stones existed in. Flicking his tail contentedly, Mercurius absorbed and mulled over every little word, contemplating them and the certainty of which the deer spoke. As if he knew some bit of their own origins.

The origins of the first gembound, the first chrysalis, the first bit of magicka as they all knew it. The origins of beautiful, tumultuous chaos and the idea of death. The universe split into many parts. Mercurius could see it all so clearly. Creatures tumbling from their sources, wandering the world and acting as their own unique part of the universe, simultaneously everything and nothing. It was the sort of convoluted explanation existence and life deserved.

"We are the universe dreaming," he parroted, unable to keep the power of that statement off of his lips. Moonset eyes glimmered as they resurfaced in reality, opening to take in the soft, misty light of the grove once more. If he had hands, he would have given the deer a standing ovation. Instead, he shifted back awake and smiled. "That was, quite honestly, Pride, a wonderful story. One of creation and why we are as we are," he murmured eagerly, tail flicking.

"I felt as if I was living through the creation of everything. It was overwhelming at first, all of the newness and the change. Then there is the calmness as the world took itself in. It was silent, and delightful. Nostalgic, almost? And chaos --- so sweet and needed. Your way with words is far more eloquent than mine, I believe." A soft rumble reverberated form his chest, honestly lining his statement. "For your very first story, it is certainly incredible. We are the universe dreaming."

@Pride