Chaos-Two trudged along, his hind legs aching as they normally did, a yawn splitting his face. He ran forward to catch up with the group, standing on his hind legs to peer around at the cave. It was so... green! It was amazing!

He got back down on his front legs and loped forward, nose to the ground. He nibbled at the grass and took a huge mouthful of it, munching on it quite happily, despite a lot of it getting stuck between his teeth and gemstone. He tongued it all out and trotted towards the blur of colors (all tinted green) that covered the meadow, ears perking up. Surely Vargas wouldn't mind if he took a break here.

The calf sniffed at one of the flowers and daintily stepped over them, being oh-so-careful not to disturb even a petal as he looked for a place to rest. He sat down and looked around at all of the flowers, ears up as he let the smell of the flowers wash over him, the breeze gentle on his soft fur. This was... this was nice. He liked it here.

His eyes closed as he just sat there, peaceful, soaking in the warmth and the calm nature of this place. Maybe he could ask Vargas to stay here instead of in the cave they were going to. This already seemed a lot nicer.

@Khavur

They had finally begun their trek to somewhere new. These caves... Khavur had never seen any others before. This was the beginning of the world for it. And this world was a vast expanse: a winding stream of water, an eternal coolness in the air. Refreshing. An entirely different pace from the Tunnel where it had started in, and, hopefully, one of the places it would return to when it got to earn its proxy to freedom.

The gruesome display had not yet left its mind. The feelings... no. It seemed as though the others were forgetting, however. At least, they acted like it. The labradorite, its oozy sibling, moved through the water, so close to the habitat it was built for. Did it feel at home, in a sense, here? And the second chaos, its little sibling... growing, they were all growing. All of them but Khavur -- Khavur simply watched. The second chaos, the little sibling, also seemed happy here, like it was built for the climate. It used its energy to lope, quite a risk for it, quite a usage of its energy. Khavur suspected that would tire it out fast. And yet, Khavur had no desire to stop the little sibling. 'let it be. let it be happy.'

Happiness. A word as confusing as strength. Khavur had no idea what to do with it. When it looked at its little sibling, wasting using all that power that it stored to wonder and wander about its surroundings, it thought, for a second, that it was seeing both of those marvelous and confusing forces...

It had to be a trick of the mind, right? Or wrong?

It was so intriguing, Khavur had to approach. Had to sit down right beside its little sibling, in the midst of it all -- of course, Khavur's hide chose a bright orangey-red to stand out amongst the grass that seemed to stretch for eons. The beast was sure it looked rather silly out here, its size and build and color popping out like a circus. And yet it didn't feel ashamed at all. Just curious. Maybe even comfortable. "Are... are you a tree now?" Khavur didn't know how to articulate every observation going through both of its heads, so that weird question was what tumbled out. One head focused on the little sibling and the other kept watch on Master Vargas's parade, to make sure it didn't get too far without them.

@V-Chaos-Two

The calf looked up at their sibling as they arrived, shuffling over to make room, despite there being plenty around. They looked up at Khavur and then down at themselves, and nodded.

"Yes. I am a tree," they said, "At least for now. It's so... calm out here, and nice. I can't see it properly, but I'll bet it's beautiful."

Chaos-Two picked a flower and held it in their claws delicately, and started to pick more and more, making a colorful bouquet, "Can you describe it to me?"

They started to very carefully braid the stems together, making a clumsy crown of flowers, though at this stage, it looked a lot more like a tangled mess. But they were careful, his tongue sticking out past his teeth, biting it gently as he concentrated. They wanted to make two of them, one for each head, and carefully baubled to glow gently.

"Smell the flowers," they said, "They smell very nice, I like them."

Chaos-Two decided that their favorite things were flowers. They were the nicest shade of green they found, and they definitely thought that they were their favorite colors, now. They painted their world in shades of purple, turquoise, and lime, more color than he saw elsewhere.

@Khavur

Did the little sibling understand what Khavur meant? Was understanding an emotion it could detect..? Or was it not worth it to worry, because they were moving on now... They seemed to understand, so it was okay.

The little sibling said this room must be beautiful... Khavur wished, just a little, that they would stop using all these words it wasn't sure about, but at the same time, it wanted them to use more... 'teach me, little sibling. teach me what a tree knows.' It was a weird request, silently passed into the air as nothing more than a deep inhale and a gust of an exhale. The little sibling knew more, knew for certain, what Khavur had never before dreamed of understanding. How?

They began to pick at flowers. The head that watched this behavior became quickly and easily transfixed, hypnotized by the repetitive wave of motion. The other head, the one that had been watching Vargas's party, began to swivel around in its usual scouting manner. The small-horned head answered: "As you wish."

So as the little sibling began to create, which in and of itself already felt beautiful, Khavur would begin to describe the things around them. It was intended to be more of a report, but creativity sparkled in the air and managed to web its way into Khavur's words. "Everything is alive, with no end in sight." That didn't mean there was no end, death likely hid around every corner. And yet, Khavur felt like death would fit in, even here. "The grass and the flowers go on and on passed what I can see, but not in every direction. There are also trees, like you, and also like me... they huddle together. I do not know why." It seemed counterintuitive -- did they not compete for light? Did none of them truly care who was the strongest, the tallest, the greenest? Vargas's group huddled together too, but there was always distance, both physically and beyond the realm of flesh and bone. You could feel it. Not even the easy winds of this room could blow it away entirely.

...Well? Where's the question? It's usually here, at this very moment. But nothing came.

"Ah--" Khavur realized he-- no, it, it, it had stopped talking. It continued: "There is also a river, just as endless. Our labradorite sibling moves through it instead of walking on land. If you are a tree, then they are a fish. And I..." 'what am I doing?' Luckily, another subject came up to capture Khavur's interest.

"Smell the flowers." Alright. Khavur would bend one head down to sniff. Sniff sniff. See? Oh-- oh wait, it was getting something. Sniff sniff. More sniffing. Now this head of Khavur's was buried in flowers, sniffing madly, looking for more. Oh it was...

'beautiful?'

The head that was still staring at the little sibling spoke: "They have many colors. I forgot to tell you. I can list those too, if you want." A beat, to consider. "...I like them too."

@V-Chaos-Two

Chaos-Two flicked an ear to listen, continuing to weave until he had one crown, and then starting on another. They looked up halfway through to pay better attention to the other. They snuggled up against Khavur's side and sat against them, sighing in relief as the pressure on their pelvis yielded.

"They're a fish?", they said, looking over to river, at the noise of it, "... Yeah, they are. They have fins and are slimy like a fish. We are trees and they are a fish, and Vargas is a rock. Hard and stubborn. But warm when the light shines on it for a while."

They'd yet to see the light come and shine on Vargas, but they wondered if they could be that light.

"Tell me about the colors?", they asked, looking up at Khavur before continuing to weave, glad they had fingers and thumbs.

With the second crown finished, he pushed his magic into it, watching it start to glow. It glowed a soft white and gold rather than the green of his eyes, and they stood up on their hind legs, reaching up as far as they could to gently place the crown atop Khavur's head.

"I made you this," he said, "Because I think you look nice with it."

Chaos-Two had no knowledge of the word 'love', having never heard it before. They knew like, and dislike, and hate, but not love. But this was the closest thing they knew to saying such a thing. Creating something beautiful for someone he cared about.

"Now you're beautiful, like the flowers," they said softly, and sat down to do the same with the other one, distracted momentarily by a butterfly fluttering past.

He'd never seen one before. The bug was so... beautiful. Like everything in this cave was.

@Khavur

The physical feeling of added pressure and heat at Khavur's side was dim, what would have been called unnaturally so by others if they could have compared, most assuredly. The emotional feelings brought about by the action was where the intensity was truly felt. Khavur did not understand it. Khavur wanted to.

The little sibling seemed to understand Khavur, though. Was that what mattered most? Indeed, their oozy sibling was a fish, and they the trees, and Vargas-- Master Vargas... a rock. That was an interesting take. The head that had been rolling in flowers for the scent ceased, and now two pairs of eyes were focused on the little sibling. Silently admiring their thoughts. Wondering. Khavur wanted to know... why they thought that about Master Vargas. The analogy felt clear... it was a level of reasoning like Khavur's own, but so much-- so much brighter... and that was yet another part Khavur wanted to understand.

"Tell me about the colors?" Of course. Yet again, one head broke away from the trance, to examine the colors of the flowers this time, while the other stayed staring. Now... how to describe a color? "Have you ever seen orange before? Or red, or blue, or pink?" Had those colors been altered for the little sibling all their life? Was there some kind of analogy...? "Maybe there are colors in the flowers that I cannot see either. There are many, is what I mean. And they are all..." 'say it,' "...all strong." Khavur waited for the fatigue that followed that word to come. Waited for the crashing, imploding, destructive waves of thought, one after another.

But something about that light pressure and that faint heat on its side saved it.

To Khavur's surprise, the little sibling made their little creation glow. The small-horned head smiled-- actually smiled, with teeth showing-- while the large-horned head gave a softer kind of smirk. Khavur would lower the head the little sibling was aiming for so that it might be easier to crown.

"I made you this because I think you look nice with it."

"I--" "Now you're beautiful, like the flowers."

"Yes. I am." A flowering tree. "Thank you."

It was in this moment when Khavur's heart yearned so deeply to understand the mind of its little sibling that it could not help the magic that tried to come soaring through, seeking those enigmatic feelings for the sake of bottling them and bringing them back to Khavur.

Emotions it found, emotions it returned. Faint. Faint but...

When they finally faded, they left something behind. Something grand welling in the belly of the beast. Something beautiful, something strong. Was it right to define those words in this way? Was that what they meant, truly? 'no. but I know why.' It had always been clearer than Khavur had let on, always churning in the back of hi-- yes, his mind. He had known it, but he had kept it hidden.

Now, while Mast-- while Master Vargas, yes, still a Master... while Master Vargas was not watching, he could let it out.

The butterflies in his stomach and the sunlight in his mind.

"Do you like that kind of bug?" Khavur had noticed the distraction. Now he was curious, for... reasons.

@V-Chaos-Two

"I see them," they said softly, "I'm told that all my colors are turned green because of my eyes. I can barely see past the glow they make. Shadows, shapes, and if I'm really close I can pick out details. But it's all green. Sometimes, if a color is vibrant enough, I think it mixes to make new colors. I know that flower is red, but it looks like your purple. I like the flowers because of that. Because even with my eyes, they still look vibrant and colorful."

Chaos-Two looked up at Khavur, ears perked up, "Strong?"

They looked back to the flowers, at how their colors were so determined to make them see their beauty despite their eyes, and nodded slowly, "Yes. They're strong. Like you, Khavur."

They looked up at Khavur and touched their side, smiling, "You're strong too, and beautiful. I'll bet you're really bright and vibrant. You look nice to me, though. Red and pretty."

Chaos-Two looked down at the second crown and drew their magic in, trying to make it glow too. He blinked as the crown failed to brighten, and sighed, shaking their head. Sometimes their magic felt lazy, but that was okay.

They reached out and caught the butterfly in their hands, opening them and watching as it stood in their palms, wings gently opening and closing, "I like bugs and animals that let me catch them, like frogs and lizards."

Chaos-Two held their hands out in that childish instinct of catch-and-show, ever so gentle with the emerald insect.

"... Everything in my eyes looks like this butterfly's wings," they said softly, "It wouldn't be so bad if my vision was clear. But it makes my hearing and smell better, so..."

How the calf managed to be an optimist when everything seemed to have so desperately wanted to ruin them was amazing. They were so hopeful despite the odds, figuring out ways to get past the obstacles they faced.

"Hey Khavur?", they asked, "Do you want to hold it?"

@Khavur

The little sibling explained it. That was good. Khavur had never been too keen on the details. What was it like, having everything you saw be... greener? Less detailed and harder to pick apart? Was it... uncomfortable? Boring? Annoying? Or did it just not matter at all? In any case, it was also good that the little sibling was getting new experiences of color. Even if their version of color was different from Khavur's, or Master Vargas's. What difference did it make, in the end-- wait, in fact, did that not prove Khavur's statement about there being colors it could not see? Well, maybe that wasn't true -- Khavur could see many shades of green, after all. But... this way of seeing reality didn't sound bad. It just sounded different.

Perhaps that was where an advantage resided, hidden in plain sight (haha). Perhaps, like their oozy labradorite sibling, some things were better suited to one place over another. One climate that the little sibling was built for that harnessed these abilities and--

'AND WHY DOES IT MATTER? THE SECOND CHAOS ISN'T IN A PLACE WHERE ITS-- their-- VISION IS A BENEFIT MOST OF THE TIME. IN THE WORLD-- they-- LIVE IN, IT IS A DEFECT. yes, but that is not the point. the point is, if that can pose an advantage in Any environment, then I am one step closer to understanding that frustratingly unknowable word that is--'

"Strong?" Khavur's mind ran back to the track, a runaway train that had been returned. The little sibling... 'why do you confuse me so?' But Khavur knew why. 'they, like everything I meet and see, are a teacher. they teach me.' And suddenly, Khavur's mirth at the magical glow of the woven flowers turned into a giggle. They couldn't stop it. It would not be stopped. This giggling was quiet and low, more a rumble in the small-horned head's throat, and yet it was something that felt so new and so foreign and so good. 'defining a lot of words right now.' One definition of a multi-faceted word is hardly a definition at all. Khavur was learning so much, so much-- and, that wasn't rare. Every breath felt like a new lesson to one who had just started breathing. This time, however, Khavur was noticing that he... enjoyed it. Actively, actually enjoyed it. And that was far more rare for a lesson.

The little sibling called them strong. And pretty. And red, which Khavur could have thought was wrong, but now he knew that for the little sibling, it was right. In this moment, in this world, in their mind, it was right. Khavur's mind wanted to scream WHY WHY WHY but that question was pointless now, pointless here, because Khavur knew the answer already. In this instant, this environment, being trees amidst grass and flowers while a fish enjoyed the river and a rock tumbled ever onward to somewhere new, the little sibling was right. And that is what made Khavur giggle.

He felt there was something that had to be returned. "I--" How do you express this? What is this overwhelming force? What word is there for it? It was on the tip of Khavur's tongue... "You are a tree. Beauty and strength are what uphold you. Your eyes are a gift, and I..." What? What did he do? "I will bring you back here some day, if you wish it." That wasn't it... but it was close enough.

The next crown of flowers made did not seem to want to glow. Khavur felt nothing towards this-- magic was just this way. Not good or bad. Even. The little sibling could try again, but the crowns didn't have to match. It was... Khavur hadn't learned the words to describe all of this. All of this was entirely out of the territory Khavur had been born into. What else could it learn, then, from other caves? Could it take... the little sibling... with him? Would they want that?

The little sibling then caught the butterfly. Both sets of eyes were drawn in, observing. "...But it makes my hearing and smell better, so..." There it was. The advantage, hidden in plain sight. Or was it the second? Was the first, this alternate way of seeing things, actually neutral, leaving the hightened senses as the only true advantage? Were they two advantages? Or were there more strengths hidden underneath than Khavur could possibly imagine? It was more complex than Khavur had been taught to believe, that was for sure.

To Khavur, it was more than optimism. It was intelligence, a version of the story he hadn't before had the mind to see. It was beyond an average hunting lesson -- it was a world shifter. Khavur had been, metaphorically, like the little sibling: everything was just butterfly wings. And now, there was more...

"Hey Khavur? Do you want to hold it?" Before he could even really consider his next move, before his acumen could even start to show, one of Khavur's graspers, equipped with wicked claws, was lifted to be level with the little sibling's hand. "Alright." It was, perhaps, the most impulsive decision he had ever made.

@V-Chaos-Two

Chaos-Two looked up to Khavur in more ways than one. Both because they were much smaller than the other and physically had to look up at the other even when they were laying down, and also because Khavur was their big brother. Their big brother who had instantly grown protective over them- and he knew he was physically weak, physically defected, but his magic certainly was not. The spell he used that very first day, glass shards shooting upwards to grow taller than Vargas, wickedly sharp and incredibly dangerous- or beautiful, if you had seen the lights of the tunnel shining through them, making lights on the ground. There were two ways Chaos-Two saw things. Strong, or beautiful. Many things could be both, many things could only be one. Like Vargas. Strong, but not beautiful, or Khavur, strong and beautiful, or the flowers he wove, simply beautiful.

"They are a gift," they said softly, looking up at Khavur and giving him the goofiest grin he could possibly manage, pleased as punch, "I like seeing the world through butterfly wings. And seeing things up close give better details anyway."

They held their hands out and very gently placed the butterfly in Khavur's hand, setting their own four-fingered, one-thumbed one on the other's, wrapping a hand around a massive finger. They watched the insect crawl around Khavur's hand, searching for flowers to drink from, and picked one to set it in the other's palm, watching the butterfly crawl onto it and insert the straw-like mouth it had deep into the flower. Chaos-Two wondered if nectar was sweet, and they wondered if that's why butterflies drank it. Such a delicate thing would eat something so delicate in turn, and spread pollen from the flower to others in order to allow the flowers to go to seed and make more, thus giving the butterfly more nectar to drink. T'was the circle of life.

"Khavur," they said, looking up again, "Bringer of chaos... holder of butterflies."

Chaos-Two smiled even harder, until their eyes scrunched and their nose did too. They were just so... happy. Incredibly happy. It was funny how they still didn't truly know Khavur's full title, but it was a mouthful and hard to say past a wall of sharp gem shards in their mouth. So they kept it simple and sweet.

Turning towards the crown again, they tried to cast the spell, hoping that this time, it would work. This time, it started to glow, but instead of the sort white and gold, this one was lavender and blue, and they reached up again, standing on the tips of their hooves, setting it down atop the other head. They admired it for a moment and sat down, beginning to weave yet another crown. Who for? There was no one but them.

But it soon became apparent as it sat on their own head, not glowing, but still plenty colorful. They looked up at Khavur and tilted their head, amused.

"We match now," they said, and reached over to hold Khavur's claw again, peering at the butterfly in interest.

What a fascinating insect, so peaceful and delicate that it didn't even fear being within the impressive grasp of a top predator. It knew that the allure it had was too impressive to resist.

@Khavur

The little sibling gave Khavur the answers he was searching for, yet again, somehow. "Exactly," he said, soft as cotton and sweet as nectar. Exactly. Details, beauty; seeing things in different ways than all the rest of them, that was the little siblling's gift. It was, at times, a painful gift to bear, but it was important. Without them, Khavur would not have understood pain quite so easily. Would not have understood its signs and its effects. The little sibling grinned at the beast, a fiercely goofy grin that Khavur had to return. It made him wonder: 'is it possible to admire someone so much smaller than you?' It had to be, because Khavur was doing that right now.

When the butterfly was placed on Khavur's hand, the beast found himself as still and rigid as stone, as delicate as a glass shard. He knew, in that moment, that he posed a gigantic threat to this small creature... and yet he did not want to hurt it. It crawled, searching for food. The little sibling gave it some. Flower food. Khavur observed the way it ate, with its long straw unfurling into the specimen. Drinking not with tongue, but with tube. Who would have thought of that? Certainly not Master Vargas -- Khavur was his first creation, and this was not how he drank. Did Master Vargas see the value in things as the little sibling did? As Khavur was beginning to?

It made Khavur wonder if there were some other way he might have wished to have been made. Would he have enjoyed drinking nectar or being beautiful over... whatever he was now? Or had Master Vargas been... wrong? Was Khavur already perfect somehow, just not in the way Master Vargas had wanted or predicted? Khavur had once considered this option, but never before had he felt-- never before had he allowed himself to feel that it was a viable possibility. Never before had he been called strong, or beautiful...

The little sibling called his given name, and his racing mind came racing back once again. Khavur's mind was the type to stretch out miles and miles in front of him, running to fast and so hard he could not keep up with it. It could fill a whole room -- it certainly wanted to -- and this room might as well be endless, in certain dimensions.

Then it turned out the little sibling was adding to his title. Another giggle came rumbling forth from the small-horned head's throat, causing ripples in that would have otherwise been stagnant tree bark, or glass shards, stagnant and unwavering. The butterfly had not left yet. "Yes. So it seems," he said, through the large-horned head. Now that they were in this bout of rampant freedom, disguised (but not really) as trees amidst a flowery field, Khavur was beginning to remember exactly what his given name meant to him. Nothing. In all honesty, he felt detached from his longwinded title -- 'What even is a Reaver, or a "Dark Above"?' -- and, stranger, he felt detached from his name. Khavur. Nobody knew this yet. He had never told a soul. He figured he shouldn't... he hadn't earned it yet. 'but now I think I can.' What did that mean? 'hope.' It meant hope.

Khavur liked the little sibling's title for him better.

To Khavur's surprise, the (quite frankly adorable) little sibling was making yet another crown of flowers. This time it glowed. The little sibling reached up again to crown Khavur's second head, and Khavur bowed appropriately to help with the distance, careful not to disturb his holding hand too much. It was a bit of a juggling act. "Do not wear yourself out so fast," 'dear.' The thought finished the sentence. Khavur didn't have the guts to call anyone such a... title. But he wanted to. He wanted to over and over again, and each time the desire pounded against his skulls, he resisted. 'Not yet.'

Soon, Khavur and the little sibling matched. 'Perfectly,' Khavur added on in thought. Perfectly, because... "Your crown does not need to glow. You glow for it." Once the observation has been made, Khavur's focus shifted back to the butterfly, seeming at the end of its feast. "Soon, we will be butterflies." Not stationary and rough like trees or stones, not like Master Vargas. Soon, free and released to the wind, flocking together... hopefully. For support.

Khavur gingerly lowered his grasping claws to the flowery field. The butterfly flew off.

@V-Chaos-Two