For weeks now the pearl-like structure in the cavern had been filling with water from the inside. The Sea embracing its child as her body grew in size and density until it was the size o the pearl containing her. Slowly her body began to shift, tail pressing against the lower glossy surface of the gem while her head pressed against the ceiling, and soon the gem cracked under the pressure, not long after shattering into tiny fragments scattered around the slowly wakening harp seal babe.

Her first action in life was to vomit out the water that had accumulated inside of her in the crystal, though this violent retching only lasted a few moments, and then finally she could breathe. She could feel the very air as it glided off her wet skin, the shifts in the cave, for a moment she didn't feel alone in a cavern but part of the cave itself, in tune, one. But then her eyes open and the feeling faded, and Cinders was very much alone, a newborn in a cave with no one to tend to them.

But the Sea calls to all her children when they are lost, and Cinders naturally gravitated towards the nearby river. She didn't know how or why, but she knew she needed to be there, that she'd be less alone there, could find food there. Even as the instinctual fear built in her chest, even as her innate sense of survival screamed no, she plunged herself into the water and finally came alive in mothers embrace.

Her first swim did not last longer than a few minutes, but it seemed to be the thing that truly breathed life into the creature, for when she surfaced she looked flushed, happy, exhilarated.

She brimmed with life

Oliver's quiet wandering through Polaris--planting seeds wherever he found wet soil in the rocky cave--had drawn him past the river. A splashing tore his attention from herbs and ferns, however, to the river itself. He hesitated before drawing toward it: Polaris was dangerous, at least when it wasn't nearly-empty. Golems seemed to turn up at terrible times, and mysterious happenings always started, he'd found, right around this time of year.

As he crept cautiously to the edge of the steep bank, he saw nothing, at first: only the sparkle of the Spire's teal light dancing over its surface. Only after a moment did he spot the white creature bobbing within: young, plump but sleek, health shining from it.

It struck him as somehow as a new hatch: perhaps the large eyes that marked it as a juvenile, or the oversized head. He wasn't sure, but concern gripped him. Polaris's river could be deadly, he knew--and he'd never really known any water-going creatures, unaware that some simply lived in there. He leaned over, his blue eyes wide and his wing-feathered forelimbs clutching the rocky edge as he looked down.

"Are--excuse me?" he called out, worry in his tentative voice. "Are you okay? Do you need help?"

He even trembled, a little--for if a child were drowning, how could he be of help? He couldn't fly, really--only glide--and his wing-arms tended to sink him in deeper water. This could be a terrible dilemma, indeed.

@Cinders

Cinders was young, minutes old really. It was not surprising she hadn't instinctually thought of adults or other creatures. She was born seemingly by chance, with no parents to guide her and had yet to see creatures beyond the fish swimming with her in the river. But she didn't need anyone else, the sea was her mother and she provided her with food and safety. She didn't know how long she spent, catching fish in her jaw and taking them above water to eat before diving down for more, instinct guiding her to do as she must to survive.

But suddenly she wasn't alone anymore. A voice broke the everpresent silence of her lonely world and drew her eyes to the surface where she saw....something, though she hardly possessed examples let alone words to compare the creature too. Still, she was curious enough about this creature to surface from the water, luckily for him a little bit away from him as she wanted to crawl up onto the land to get a proper look at this fascinating new beast.

Once she was up, however, she grew more cautious like any babe meeting a strange adult. He looked nothing like her so there was no way this would be her father, come to look for his child after having been gone, this was a stranger and she was afraid of him. So she set the fish down and nudged it towards him as a peace offering with her nose before waving one flipper in a shy wave to greet him, too nervous to turn her back on him to flee back into mothers arms.

Of course, he had spoken to her, and she needed to respond, she knew she did. But she didn't know how to speak. She opened and closed her mouth, looking confused and overwhelmed. How had he done that? How could she do that? Closing her eyes she echoed the words in her mind like a puzzle, they meant nothing to her, sounds and vibrations in the air, but it was higher pitched which meant he used his breath to form them.

"Fine," she echoed, though she looked absolutely overwhelmed to be doing so. Despite her struggles, however, it was obvious to look at her that she was healthy as could be for a newborn, just scared and unsure, and overwhelmed at having spoken her first words given how she gasped and her flippers covered her mouth when the words left them.

Oliver, observing worriedly, was at first presented with a fish: and then a nervous peering, the wave of a flipper, and a single word, echoed back at him.

Okay, so it's a newly-hatched--but it's a water-thing, I think. It can swim, anyway. Polaris' river was broad, its shores steep, so he didn't try to climb down; he just waited up at the top of the bank. Realizing that Cinders was nervous, though, he did back up a bit and slowly lower himself to lie down. His ears flicked back, and the hybrid's overall gentle, tentative demeanor was clear enough in his body language--though perhaps not to a child.

"I won't hurt you," he reassured softly, and then gave the fish a nudge with his nose, back down toward the water. "And--thank you! But you can eat that. My name's Oliver," he added, carefully gesturing to himself with the claws of his right forelimb. And then, slowly--knowing that names were often the first thing that the young truly understood--he tapped himself and repeated, "Oliver."

He then gestured to Cinders. "What's your name?" Oliver pointed to himself, then to Cinders, reiterating. "I'm Oliver; you're..?"

@Cinders

Cinders watched uncertainly as the beast gave her back the fish she had given as a peace offering. But he didn't seem to be rejecting her as he seemed to be backing down from any stance she might see as agressive. She didn't know how she knew, she just did. His body language, his scent, his expression, somehow he didn't look as scary and she knew he was doing that intentionally. So, slowly and hesitantly, she dragged her tiny body up onto equal ground with him so they could see each other properly.

That's when she noticed he wings.

If it was possible her big black eyes widened and her mouth formed a perfect 'O'. They were beautiful unlike anything she'd ever seen in her entire life, and they caught her attention immediately. But then the creature started making noises at her again and she needed to focus in order to have any chance at understanding what he was saying. So she listened to the words and watched his movements with a sharpness that made her look much older than she actually was.

"Cinders," she didn't even have to think about it this time, she knew what to say, she knew the way to manipulate air to make the sounds of her name. She didn't even know why she called herself that, but when she saw her reflection in the water, that had been the first thought in her head. That was her. That was Cinders. Even if she wasn't sure who or what she truly was yet.

@Oliver

Oliver lay his head on his forelimbs, briefly, peering at the seal pup. He didn't know what she was, of course; but she was young, and he could tell that at least his attempt at seeming less threatening was working. When she gave what he could only assume was her name--Cinders--his head came back up again, his ear-tufts pricking up.

"Cinders?" he parroted, and tilted his head with a blink. "That's a pretty name." It was true, and he gave her a quick "smile" of sorts: a wag of his feathery tail, a lowered head, a flicking back of his ears. His near-closed for an instant. It struck him, though, that a cinder had to do with fire, and this child was of the water: did she use a magic unusual to her, then? He'd found that Gembound tended to have some sort of magic similar to their appearance... birds with the magic to move air, or big, stolid beasts with a connection to earth. And often enough their names reflected that.

He had no way of knowing, of course--but he looked around nonetheless, pulling a small stone to him. He made sure Cinders could see it, clasping his foreclaws over it as he focused. If his magic hadn't done anything, he'd not have been surprised--but instead the stone turned black, as if all light had been snuffed from it, and cracked. He parted his claws, blinking, and stared--then quickly tried to hide it away.

Whoops.

"I was gonna show you magic," he tried to explain, his voice softly apologetic, "But, um. ...It doesn't always work."

@Cinders

Cinders brightened when the creature repeated her name back to her. She was still struggling to understand a lot of things, like any babe, but her name was something she could instantly recognize when someone said it, not the mess of sound and vibrations that most talking was to her. So while she couldn't understand he was complimenting her, she looked pleased all the same to hear someone say her name.

Using her fins she dragged herself closer to him, emboldened by their newfound communication and reassured. She watched as he held the rock in his paws fascinated as all the color drained from the thing and it cracked. While it was actually a failure, to Cinders the trick was successful and fascinating, and it made her search her own mind for any instinct that told her she had a similar trick before unexpectedly finding one!

Acting on instinct once more her big eyes drifted towards one of the darker corners of the cave and focused intently as her breathing slowed, trying to drum up this trick she felt inside of her. For moments it felt as though there was nothing, that she was just aimlessly staring into the bare darkness, but then, just as she was about to give up, it felt like a surge of power rippling through her. She could see every inch of the previously dark corner she had found.

"Trick! Trick!" she chanted excitedly, not knowing how else to refer to it as she turned back to him with her now even shinier and reflective big eyes, acting as though she had conquered the world. Which, in all fairness, a pup managing to cast a spell without knowing what it was doing, was pretty cool.

@Oliver

At first, he thought she was simply chanting excitedly about his (utterly) failed spell. It was only at a second glance--and even then, after a double-take--that he noticed the glimmer to her eyes, the sheen of something that hadn't been there before. He puzzled over this, for a moment, but he wasn't sure what it was. It was magic, though--at least, he thought it was--and he gave an encouraging "smile" once again.

"Trick!" he agreed, his soft voice both kind and gently enthusiastic. "It's magic! Very good!" He was still utterly baffled about it, but--sure, why not! Magic. Trick!

He squinted, wondering what else he could do, or say--he was in no rush to leave, but he didn't want to be boring, either. Never mind that this was just a new hatch; he had to be cool and exciting. He felt urged to entertain, to keep Cinders amused--and more importantly, happy. Clearing his throat, he concentrated for a moment. Oliver's warm, impulsive nature had him conjuring something new: no shiny stone, though those always seemed to be welcome gifts.

Instead, a bright yellow banana simply manifested out of nowhere, and Oliver hastily leaned down, excitement in his movements as he tore the peel carefully from part of the fruit. This he pushed forward, its sweet smell enticing. It was a magic thing--he didn't eat fruit normally, but it seemed that anyone, regardless of diet, could eat these and flourish.

And sparkle, too--for whatever reason. He didn't know; he just hoped that Cinders liked it.

@Cinders

If Cinders had known how worried Oliver was about being entertaining and cool to her she would have laughed. Mostly because she found him utterly fascinating like any hatchling found their first interaction. Everything he did was new and strange to her, but his efforts to show he wasn't going to hurt her were paying off greatly, to the point that somewhere in her little brain, the imprinting process had begun, and odds were if he continued with her like this, he would struggle to free himself of her.

But none of that showed on Cinders face, innocent as she was to her own biology. She just knew that this was fascinating, that this creature was beautiful, he was kind, and he was showing her so many cool things that she never wanted the moment to end. She swelled up proudly under his gaze and desperately searched her mind for another trick, magic he had called it she thought, but that one seemed to be all she knew for now sadly. But she vowed to herself to practice this trick more often so that she would get better and better and maybe learn new tricks she could show him!

Then out of nowhere, the creature conjured some kind of food, at least, it smelled edible to Cinders! she watched in fascination, still occasionally chanting the word 'trick!' as an instinctive exercise of her vocal cords and a way to learn the process of speaking. Then he pushed the fruit towards her and she nosed at it curiously, like one did with any strange thing before taking a gentle bite of the tip, her eyes shooting wide at the sweet flavor as she rose her gaze to meet the creatures own in utter fascination.

But before she could struggle to try and find words her eyes darted down to her fin and she realized it was sparkling! Gasping she rushed over to the water and realized her whole body was sparkling and had this strange glow about it. It was kind of scary, but she felt good and wanted to show off as a sort of thank you so she waddled up to him and nudged him excitedly, pushing him towards the river before looking down at it herself and taking a deep breath.

Time to show off!

It wasn't the graceful dive she imagined, but she managed to not just....fall into the river either. She flipped off the ledge like a newborn and dashed down into the water, the sparkle and glow of her coat catching on the light of the gems lining the cave as she twirled and spinned, every so often surfacing excitedly to see if Oliver was still watching, clearly having the time of her life.

(I wasn't sure if it should be physical combat or other, so i opted for combat xD)

@Oliver

Oliver nudged back, gently, his eyes lighting up with kind delight as Cinders displayed such obvious trust. It was only after she tumbled back into the water, though, that he realized just how happy she was: spinning and practically dancing through the water, the magical glittering trailing after her as she went.

The hybrid lowered himself to the edge of the bank, peering down with the same kindly expression. He was content to watch, happy to see another Gembound so cheerful, so delighted just to be alive. He offered encouragement, again--not only to be nice, but to provide more speech, more context for the little one to learn. Other Gembound, Oliver had found, seemed quicker to learn language if they heard more of it--which made sense, really, he supposed. Hard to learn something if you had no exposure to it, after all! So he called down to her, her own personal cheerleader, his tone enthusiastic and gentle both.

"You're very good--in the water! It's very pretty, Cinders. All the light, and water, together." He said it all a little slowly, and perhaps overly-clearly, in a way an adult Gembound might have found patronizing. He hoped that Cinders didn't, at least. But he felt that calling down with quick words might simply confuse the little one. "You're good at swimming! Very good!" he went on, that contentment welling up within him.

Vicariously, he felt the joy of simply being: of the child exulting in the waters, carefree and strong. The world held no terrors for her, as yet, and the only things she'd known thus far were happy, or so it seemed to him. He resolved to linger, for awhile--and make sure it stayed that way. It wasn't that he felt responsible for every child that he came across... it was just that he didn't feel it would be right to just leave Cinders behind, either.

Idly, he called upon his magicka again--this time to create a ball of light, something he could cast down into the water and let the little one chase. He couldn't get down there himself; but perhaps he could play a game with her, in her own element, nonetheless.

It took a moment to form--his concentration wasn't where it should have been, really--and it was smaller than he'd have liked. But it was there, nonetheless: a sparkling ball of golden-white light, one that he held hovering over the river for a moment before dipping it down into the cold currents. Focusing deeply, and smiling, he sent it this way and that beneath the water, hoping to incite Cinders into chasing it. At the least, he could provide her entertainment; at the most, maybe, a game.

"I made that light, he called down, offering both more words for learning, and a reassurance that the light would not harm her. "Look at it go! Can you catch it?" he coaxed her, smiling.

@Cinders