Q U E N T I N
we'll become silhouettes
when our bodies finally go

The sands of Hydra were no place for a neonate. Nobody told the caves that, apparently, as a firey-red bowl had been gathering life among the Crucible's sharp walls.

The chrysalis's inhabitant curled in place, consciousness swirling into place in its connecting brain. The first thing he felt was heat, the light beaming down into his gem refracted and amplified the cavelights streaming through the sheer cliffs of the Crucible. He couldn't bear it anymore. Dark eyes screwed shut, synapses fired for the first time to bring the fox's limbs to movement, breaking against the crystal around him. Cracks formed along its surface as he pressed.

A hole formed by his hind feet as he pressed further, desperate to release himself from the oppressive heat around him. He had to be free.

All at once, Quentin's feet broke through, dragging his wet body behind into the sandy dirt below. Loud gasps wheezed out of the newborn as air filled his longs for the first time. Bleary eyes took in the bright world around him, ears folded back as his fur grew clammy from the fluids of his chrysalis. Cliffs loomed over him, a dark tan in the middle of a canyon.

Fear shot through the gemling. He had no idea where he was, what was going on, but he felt alone. Out in the open. Panting uneasily, Quentin stepped forward, back curled and tail fluffed up to its fullest extent. A faint sound of running water caught his attention, dragging his head down to investigate.

A stream was outside his chrysalis. It was just enough for the fox to dip his face in. Desperate, Quentin dove his head in and washed off some of the gross from his face, relishing the heated water being a pointed lower temperature from his hot gem. Quickly, he lapped up some of the water, filling his belly. Who knew what he had to face, where he was; he had to figure that out.

Taking a deep breath, the fennec fox gazed upwards to the cave ceiling, his fur spiking again. He felt way too out in the open. Carefully, the fox backed up to his chrysalis again and to the smooth cave wall, finding comfort in the cool shade.

He just had to sit here and wait for something. He'd have to figure out what that weird feeling was in his belly, maybe wait to see what was really out there, what he had to see.

The shade of Hydra, too, held its dangers.

For the young cub, an early life in this treacherous terrain would prove difficult to survive. The crack of its chrysalis luckily drew no attention from the cave's larger denizens. But the crevices of rock attracted all manner of Lesser Gembound, also aiming to hide themselves from larger predators--and from the blistering light.

As Quentin lay curled in the tiny gap of shelter, a many-legged shape sought out similar protection--black and iridescent blue hairs glinting in the light as it crawled into the crack.

The Spire Spider drew closer, not yet aware of the young Gembound's presence.

@Quentin

Q U E N T I N
we'll become silhouettes
when our bodies finally go

Quentin curled up against the wall, his little heart's beating slowing to a relatively normal rate. Alright. Everything was normal. A sight escaped Quentin's throat as his eyes drifted shut, the fox relishing in the feeling of being alive.

That may not last for long. For now, though, he just wanted to rest. His tail curled around himself as he sat quietly, listening to the sounds of the wind coursing through the ravines. It was oddly calming.

A light scuffling drew his attention. Startled, Quentin's eyes snapped open. Large ears radioed to the side as he glanced around, trying to find the source.

Nothing there. It couldn't have been the wind, though. Fur on end, Quentin stood on shaky legs. He couldn't afford to sit still, apparently. Besides, his stomach was beginning to growl; he'd just come to the conclusion that he was hungry. With his mouth watering, he stepped back into the sun, anxiously glancing over his shoulder to make sure whatever was making the noise didn't follow him.

@Game Master Dark

The cave spider scuttled back at the sudden movement. Iridescent hairs glittered. At once on the defensive, it tilted its abdomen outward, its hypnotic patterns shifting and glinting in the refracted light. Its many eyes couldn't quite pinpoint its sandy-colored target against the reddish rock, but it shone its patterns outward, nonetheless.

If Quentin gazed back at it for too long, rather than at once departing, he ran the risk of becoming entranced by its deadly display...

@Quentin

Q U E N T I N
we'll become silhouettes
when our bodies finally go

That was interesting. When Quentin looked back, he noticed the blue, stark against the red of the world. Ears pricked, he took a step closer until its abdomen presented itself.

The fox's slitted pupils went wide. What... Was that? Mouth parted, Quentin took another step, entranced. It looked like it had too many legs, but something about it was just so interesting to the neonate.

He didn't realize this was the work of magic, but he blinked hard. No, something was wrong. Its fangs were too big, its movements were just... Wrong. Shaking his head, Quentin took a step back and tried to avert his eyes, his tail fluffing out more.

Thoughts swirled in his head as he shut his eyes, hyperventilating. No- Panicked, he ran.

His feet carried him in the wrong direction. When his eyes snapped forward, they were near close to the spider, its patterns filling his view.

He was lost to them. They were hypnotizing, and the fox practically drooled in interest. One tentative foot in front of the other, he stepped closer, tail wagging ever so softly. No- maybe this thing was a friend. Maybe it didn't want to hurt him.

@Game Master Dark

The Spire Spider skittered back a few steps when at first Quentin rushed toward it. But when he stopped, his eyes again opening, it was clear that the cub quickly grew entranced by the swaying of the top of its blue-black abdomen.

The Spider continued this, for a moment--its slow, dancing movements, ensuring that its prey, its would-be predator perhaps, was wholly gripped by the magic. It then slipped forward--even as Quentin paced toward it--and readied its fangs.

In Hydra, a Spire Spider never knew whether a larger beast would succumb. It had to fight with its powers to defend itself--and if it managed, well, a meal was always a dire necessity, here. Silent, its movements silky, it reached forward--two dripping, curved black fangs intending to drive painlessly into the fennec fox's forepaw. It nearly missed, at first, the forward movement of the paws causing the Spider to bite, at first, at the rock. It had to strike a second time, the balance between distance and hypnotic movement a precarious one.

@Quentin

Q U E N T I N
we'll become silhouettes
when our bodies finally go

Quentin had no idea he was in danger. All he saw was the gorgeous blue of the spider. It was like water, like an oasis, welcoming the newborn into its claws. He continued stepping forward despite the dangerous fangs of the spider glinting in the available light.

Something in his subconscious tugged at the back of his mentality, a suppressed panicked feeling deep in the pit of his gut. He was in terrible, terrible danger, but he had yet to realize, not even when the spider attempted to strike at him. He only flinched, not wanting to step on his new friend, and so he stood as the spider reared, preparing its next attack.

Quentin's eyes narrowed as he blinked rapidly, the spider coming into view. Something had gone wrong with its hypnotic dance, and the fox had a hold on reality. Not enough to dodge completely out of the way, but he was still able to come to his senses and draw his foot back. His heart hammered in his throat as he tried to shuffle back, away from the spider before it tried to bite him and contact. Eyes shut as he grit his teeth. Was he going to die? Was he going to stop existing? Panic took over the neonate as he curled his spine, still close enough for the spider to hit him.

@Game Master Dark

The Spire Spider froze at Quentin's sudden movements, calculating.

It could see that the fox's eyes were shut. That was bad. To bite when the predator was still in control went against the creature's instincts, and it slowly backed away, again, back toward the crevice, its abdomen swaying. Should the fox look at it, he might again become entranced; otherwise, assuming Quentin did not pursue, the Spire Spider was unlikely to press an attack.

@Quentin

Q U E N T I N
we'll become silhouettes
when our bodies finally go

The fox refused to move. He didn't know how long he stood there, trembling and quaking, eyes shut. He didn't want to see his own demise. He didn't want to die.

He didn't realize that this was the solution to everything, apparently. He heard it scuttling- was it trying to get closer? Get a better shot? Get it over with! Quentin bared his teeth as his shakes grew in ferocity, his fur on edge. What was it doing? Why didn't he feel anything?

After a hot few minutes of just standing there in fear, bile rising in his throat, Quentin let loose is spine as he pried one eye open ever so slightly.

Where in the caves was that thing? It wasn't in front of him.

Without waiting or looking around, Quentin only turned tail and ran the opposite way, back over the stream. No- no, it must be right behind him! Panicked and afraid, he followed the stream, refusing to look back. He had to run- he had to hide. New muscles carried him across the sands and through the water. Frantic dark eyes flicked from cave wall to cave wall as the stream merged with another, doubling the minuscule amount of water along the floor.

A dark crevice, much like the one the spider had retreated to, was off to his right. With his veins pulsing and the beat of his heart drowning out all other sounds, the fox lurched forward to the dark crack, paws scrabbling against the dirt. It was just enough for him to fit in, but he had to go deeper. He had to make sure he'd be okay.

His nails dug into the hard wall, trying his best to pry away loose sand. He was blinded by fear, not knowing the spider wasn't after him anymore.

@Game Master Dark

Q U E N T I N
we'll become silhouettes
when our bodies finally go

Quentin could feel his pulse under his skin as he calmed in his scrabbling. He couldn't hyperventilate; he couldn't waste energy like this. Anxiously, he turned his head back to the opening of the crack. He'd made some effort just digging, accidentally carving out a place he could feasibly be safe. He couldn't be sure, though. Carefully, ever so carefully, the fennec fox stuck his snout out back into the sun, looking around.

No spider was in sight.

A sigh of relief shuddered out of the minuscule Gembound. He was safe. Defeated, the fox backed into his makeshift den and flopped down to the sandy ground below, eyes screwed shut. He should be safe here. He'll be fine.

It wasn't long until he drifted off to sleep, his newborn energy expended. He had to get some rest before he went out to hunt, had to take some time for himself. He'd be safe in his cave, he'd hope. He had to be.

Curling up, Quentin draped his tail over his snout in the very back of the dark den, letting himself drift into unconsciousness. He'll deal with life another day.

Exit Quentin