James didn't burst from his chrysalis so much as sort of... slide out. He managed to make a hole, his two front hoove being freed before the rest of him tumbled out in a mess of legs and fluid, plopping to the ground rather unceremoniously. He didn't even breathe at first, his small body frail and new, though with his first gasp for air came his very first struggle to stand.

As all young foals do, he struggled, legs flailing in every direction as he attempted to get them under him, shivering like mad in the fog and the cold. He stamped his two front feet forward and managed to get his hind ones under his bum, shoving himself upwards and wobbling treacherously, one leg jutting out to catch himself. He stood there for a moment, brown eyes blinking as he looked around, expecting... well, something to be there to support him. But there was no one.

All he really had was a name, instincts, and fear.

Oh, and the mud that his tiny hooves were slowly sinking into. That was a bit of a problem.

The quiet sound of cracking stone wasn't one he heard often, these days. And he wondered, at first, if it was one of those who had fallen back into their chrysalis during the battle. Not that the quiet crack of gemstone was all that audible; it was just that, for one of his age, it was a unique sort of sound. The kind that, despite the muffling nature of the thick mist and the screech of the Callers overhead, you recognized when you heard.

Dragon shifted from where he'd been lying near-submerged, motionless for hours, at the edge of the Heart. He pushed into slow motion, lazy sweeps of his tail propelling him through the water channels. He could have flown, magic lifting him, but he didn't want to miss a child by flying too fast, or tip off a potential enemy, if it were one of those Hive fellows reemerging.

When he finally spotted the foal, he was glad he'd heard the gemstone, first. The lanky, leggy little horse was exactly the right shape and size for some of the leaner jungle deer, and the sort of thing that, had it come to drink at the water's edge, he might have tried to eat had he not realized.

For all the alligator's quirks, he did try to avoid eating sentient Gembound, at least.

He wasn't sure if it had seen him yet, drifting along like a wet, misshapen black log, but he lifted his head clear nonetheless and spoke, noting as he did the child's large eyes and... sinking hooves.

"Are you new?" he asked, at once, his voice deep but not menacing, at least not deliberately so. His head briefly dipped, blowing thoughtful bubbles beneath the surface, and he added, "You are sinking." A brief glance around showed him no other Gembound--at least, not right there--so it hadn't been left by an incautious guardian, at least. A totally fresh hatch, then?

The alligator moved to haul himself up a little closer--not too close, yet, in case he scared the thing--and spoke again, slowly and carefully. It was never certain how much they'd understand, when they'd just hatched. "I am Dragon. You can stand on my back, if you can manage. I don't sink," he added.

@James

The foal snorted softly as he pulled a leg free and took his first step, legs wobbly and unsure, his fur coated in amniotic fluid and mud, just generally sticky and mucky. The sudden appearance of something his little newborn brain could only call monster made him spook and try to run off, only to stumble all over his spangly legs and face-plant, falling head over heels into a puddle of muck.

A high-pitched whinny left his mouth and he tried to get up, finally getting to his feet and shaking himself off, stumbling off to one side, struggling to pick up his hooves the more of a mess he made. He turned his head and stared at the creature, long-lashed blinking dumbly as he lowered his head and took a step forward.

Judging by how he neither understood nor replied to Dragon's speech, it was safe to say that perhaps he was so new that language wasn't even possible for his developing brain.

He tentatively sniffed the newcomer, legs shaky as he prepared to try to run away again, and flinched at even the slightest twitch from the alligator. Cowardly, as someone not very kind would possibly describe. Endearing, others may say.

James, as he suddenly remembered, backed up a step, still wary of the creature, and opened his mouth, trying to make some sort of noise. He awkwardly wheezed and his brows contorted into a childish frown, upper lip twitching before he tried again.

"J- Jaaaayyy... Aaaames,", he said, every vowel horribly exaggerated, though he was trying his best. He was only a few minutes old, after all.

Whoops.

The child faceplanted the mud, scrambling to get away, and Dragon watched without moving much. He didn't want to frighten him further. It shows some sense, at least, he thought; as much as he knew he wouldn't hurt a child, any kid that would march right up to a much larger predator at hatching didn't forecast a really long life expectancy for themselves.

...Himself excluded, obviously, because he'd attacked the much larger predator but honestly, that was neither here nor there...

"I am not going to eat you!" the alligator boomed. As quietly as he could. Again, he had no idea how much it might actually understand, but it hardly mattered.

He thought, for a moment, and then prodded his magic for... what were they, fruits? Whatever bananas were, one popped into existence before the alligator. He leaned forward, taking this in his jaws and crushing holes in it, to let the pulp out, before tossing it with a rather awkward swing of his head for James' hooves. It landed well short, and Dragon backed up a little to allow the foal some room. He assumed the kid would eat plants--he had the build for it--but even so, these bananas were magical. Sweet, edible by anyone, and they'd make James sparkle for awhile. Dragon didn't know why. It didn't, he supposed, really matter.

"You see, I do not need food. I can make food. You can eat that," he added. "Your name is James?" He eyed him, for a moment, mentally comparing him to various creatures he had met. "I think you are a deer," he hazarded, "or a horse. Do either of those sound right?"

Dragon didn't entirely expect a response, or at least not a coherent one, but kids didn't learn to talk through silence, after all.

@James

James understandably flinched at the rows of teeth in the alligator's mouth, leaning back so far that he fell onto his rump, deciding to stay there, since he was tired. Walking was hard! So far it had been awful, too, having to stumble around in icky, slimy mud. Gross.

The banana landed in front of him and he sniffed it, before opening his mouth as far as it could go and then taking a huge bite. He chewed clumsily, head bobbing up and down as his mouth smacked, and took a moment to swallow before chowing down on the rest of the banana, laying down so he could eat it. He deemed it to be rather delicious, filling his growling belly.

The foal stood up again and perked up at the questions, shaking his head at the inquiry of him being a deer, and nodded when the other suggested him being a horse, the word making the most sense in his head. Speech was still difficult, but he was learning as fast as he could, soaking up words from the other like a sponge.

James took some wobbly steps forward, his legs growing stronger and stronger as he kept walking, his confidence climbing as well. The foal sniffed Dragon gently, soft nose brushing against the reptile's scales, before he tossed his head up and down, something to entertain himself as he wondered.

The gator had told him to climb on earlier, hadn't he? From what he could tell, yes. So he took a tentative step forward and as carefully as he could, jumped onto the gator's back, nearly slipping and falling, but managed to maneuver so he was laying down instead. More balanced this way, too.

@Dragon

Dragon held very still as the child seemed to decide that he wasn't so bad, after all; when small hooves encountered scarred, leathery skin, he turned his head only a little to try and see.

Well, he wasn't quite sure where to go from here--literally-speaking. Cetus wasn't exactly the most hospitable of caves, and he said so. "Well, there are many caves. This one is not a good one for horses, though a horse does live here. If you stay, you may meet him. But there are places that are warmer, and drier."

Dragon pushed off with his front legs, floating loosely in the water channel, and then turned with a slow thrust of his ridged tail. It wasn't the first time he had served as a boat for young, hoofed Gembound, and he gave a warning: "Stay still, or you will fall off!" There was humor in it, rather than cruelty, though who knew if the child could differentiate, as yet.

He began to wind his way up one of the narrower water channels, away from the Heart and up toward the Divine, where the trees grew thick. At least there maybe this "James" could find someplace to stand, and lay down, without outright sinking. "I will try to take you someplace safer, though still in this cave. Stay away from the spiders, here," he added, "the ones with lots of legs. And the rats. They're very big. Either one will eat you."

As he drifted along, the reed-strewn banks slipping past, he did his best to call upon a weaker form of fire magic. It'd be enough to steam the water under his limbs, boiling it near his extremities--but he hoped to create some heat, at least, for the little one as he went along.

@James

James flicked his little tail and was sure to keep still, looking around curiously as they drifted through the water. Though he had fear, understanding was something else entirely, something that would come with experience. He didn't know why Dragon was so adamant on keeping him on his back. Though if he fell, he would learn that water and especially these depths were not to friendly to a newborn with no swimming experience.

He yawned quietly and scratched his nose on his left front leg, sniffing gently before laying down more comfortably atop the alligator, on his side with his legs tucked in. He was understandably tuckered out from all the excitement.

"Sssspiders? Rats?", he asked softly, voice high-pitched and childish, with a soft lisp as his teeth hadn't yet grown in, "Scary..."

Heat started to rise from underneath him and he nickered softly, his fur starting to dry and his muscles warming up, no longer so stiff from the cold. He stretched out his legs and lifted his head to see ahead, unable to stay still for long, stricken with a case of childish curiosity.

Idly, he wondered where they were going. He hoped there was something to eat, wherever that may be, and somewhere he could take a nap that wasn't on the back of a giant lizard.

@Dragon

Dragon found himself glad that the foal wasn't larger than it already was. It wasn't small, not compared to many of the denizens of the cave, but it wasn't massive, either. Still, it dropped his bouyancy just that little bit, so that he had to tilt his head a little awkwardly to see where he was going.

It took some searching, but he found a decent enough landing site farther inland: a shallow bank of muddy dirt stretching up beneath the tree roots. Undoubtedly the ground would still be marshy, in places--it almost always was--but there might be dry spots, too.

"They are scary," he agreed; "They gave me some of these scars, on my snout! That is--the markings, the pale skin, over my face." Dragon was littered with scars, a good number of them across the whole of his body, but the ones on his snout and head were ancient and light. "It is wise to be afraid of some things. There are always things that can harm you, and the foolish and the brave die first," he added.

He dragged himself up onto the shore, and then lowered himself down, the magic having faded; a glance around showed him that this place would be suitable enough. He didn't know much about herbivores, but he doubted the grass here would be very palatable--edible, maybe, but it was dry and harsh, sometimes sharp to the touch. "The tree roots, here, may hide you. I can stay, for awhile. I have nowhere to be. My family lives here," he added, settling himself in at the water's edge. "They are called the Children of Rot. If you meet one who calls themselves this, they will not harm you."

Perhaps a little complex for so young a child, but he said it slowly; at least it might remember the name.

@James

James tried to keep up with Dragon's explanations, learning that scars were little lines across a body- from an injury? He wasn't quite certain just yet. He frowned a little at his watcher's (for he had little vocabulary to describe him) words, troubled by the notion that those who act foolish die first. So... all he had to do was play it safe.

When they reached the embankment he hopped off, trotting a little bit away and nibbling at a sprig of grass, grimacing at the texture as he chewed it slowly, before spitting it out. He needed teeth before he could chew grass, even if it was softer than this coarse stuff. It was sharp and tasted old, and unappetizing. He didn't much like it, he realized.

He trotted around the area and explored the roots of the tree mentioned, managing to squeeze between gaps too large for any predators around. He would be safe for now, until he learned to survive. Running would be his main defense, his long legs perfect for covering long stretches of ground and jumping over obstacles.

"... Thank you,", James said softly, returning to Dragon to nuzzle gently at the other's face, trying to show his gratefulness in the only way he really knew how, "... Who are you?"

@Dragon

Alligator eyes half-shut, instinctively, as the foal nudged at his reptilian face.

"You are welcome!" Dragon answered--manners first, after all--before responding to James' question. Words seemed to be coming to it, at least, and about as quickly as one might expect. "I am Dragon," he repeated, a little more slowly, and then explained--"That is my name!"

He had watched as the foal tried, and failed, to eat the coarse grass, and pondered, for a moment. "I can ask the other horse what he eats." The "other horse" was a strange one, though. Dragon wasn't entirely sure that anything he did would be typical for horses anyway. "There are bound to be other plants about. Or I can make you more bananas," he added.

Dragon spent much of his time hunting, ambushing, lurking, and what he caught he often added--assuming it wasn't something that would swiftly rot--to the offering pile to the Master of this cave. When he felt particularly lazy he would add a dozen or so bananas to the heap.

He could spare a few, he supposed, to the foal.

@James