Its mouth beat its conscious brain to the punch when it sniped, "what stones?" The orthoclase was nearly none-the-wiser about the bait it'd sprung for without hesitating. No true realization dawned on it, though—what were the stones Pride had mentioned?

Rustling quills were a reminder not to beat around the bush, at least.

"... I suppose you might already know that, too." Putrid-lime eyes went to slits. It stayed miraculously silent, but dared to prowl forward. There was still a few feet's distance between them—as if the stag needed closeness to fling it off at a moment's notice—but, enough stolen to loom. The orthoclase's gaze fixed hard as it asked, "what do they entail, then?"

@Pride

A faint thrill of alarm as the thing stalked closer, though Pride's playfulness still lingered. He called on his magicka, briefly--as drained as he was, the kinetic shield wouldn't be too hard to pull up. He hoped.

Ahh. Nope. Nothing came.

"I will tell you about the stones in a moment," he began, the edges of a plan already forming in his mind. He was stalling, of course, but--"They're said to be very powerful, but so I do not lose track of conversation: Emuh's cave... changes. When you enter, he can shift it to match your magic. He creates, I think, a trial for you, for your specific magic type. For me, I had to move things with my mind, destroy things with my mind, to move one object to another place. A puzzle, you see, but an urgent one." He paused, thoughtful. "Another Gembound I know wound up in his chrysalis from it. Your best bet would be to be prepared for anything, and perhaps have someone there to mend you should you fail, if you wish to attempt it. And be ready to be weakened, for a time," he reminded, his tone one of warning.

Right.

The stones.

"...As for the stones, they are said to be powerful armor that shapes to the user's body." Bluff, bluff, bluff. But what could he convince Orthoclase-Alpha to do? Nothing, most likely, but I hardly have a stake in this. May as well try for something that'll provide the damn thing some personal growth. Maybe he was wrong; maybe Orthoclase had a rich and varied emotional life when alone with its family.

Somehow, Pride doubted this.

"They say it requires six lessons to learn, and for each one, a piece of armor will appear in the place where the Gembound first heard the legend--that would be here," he added, "for you. From what I remember--and these legends were carved on a wall, mind you, and that wall has since fallen, so perhaps my memory has failed me-" (internal snicker; oh he was so clever, wasn't he-?) "-But the Gembound must help someone weaker to become strong; they must learn to see from another's viewpoint;" (shit, six? why did I say six? I will never come up with six-!) "-They must give a gift anonymously to another; they must rescue someone..." For a moment, panicked, Pride briefly forgot how many he was up to. He ran it over in his mind, quickly--help someone be strong, see from a viewpoint, ahh--gift?! rescue--that's four-... "I believe the most powerful two pieces came from offering help to someone who needed it, and in listening to another's problems and offering advice." This was like some backwards-ass Collector quest, at this point--do nice thing, get reward. Pride eyed Orthoclase-Alpha solemnly. "I've never seen it done, but if I begin to see pieces of armor matching your body arrive here, I will put them aside somewhere safe until you arrive, hmm?"

Maybe it wouldn't want them, anyway, but Pride was curious to see if Orthoclase would come back insisting that it'd managed. That would be fun.

Oh- Quickly, Pride tried to take stock of Orthoclase's general measurements. Gem summoning armor into the correct shape shouldn't be too hard. "They say the armor is defensive, strong--almost unbreakable--and dangerous to attackers, as well as providing camouflage." That shouldn't be hard. Something... brown. Spiky. Though he doubted, again, that Orthoclase would even remember this conversation in an hour's time.

"But perhaps just a legend, as I've said." He only hoped that Alpha wouldn't ask why the hell Pride had brought it up. A distraction, then?--"Just the thing for a trial, though, if it's real."

Ahh, well, a bit of amusement; either he'd give the beast something good to do, or... not. No harm done, in any case.

@Orthoclase-Alpha

Stones.

Yes, though—the trial, first. A cave, shifting to suit Emuh's needs. Some beast similar to Hag'rheto, then... ? Immensely powerful and aiding in testing the Gembound... perhaps the Leviathan might know something of it? Polaris lay along the path back to Draco, though, and Ursa made for quite a journey. Alpha merely hummed in consideration, and dipped its head stiffly in seemingly indifferent acknowledgement.

Then, the stones: "... powerful armor that shapes to the user's body." The orthoclase narrowed its eyes. They (allegedly) appeared where they were first heard of—here—for every lesson learned. Pride had learned about them from a wall, but that wall no longer existed; ergo, the stag was the only proof that this legend was true. Convenient, it thought, in an astonishing feat of awareness.

These lessons, too, were not at all what seemed... proper for an age-old myth. Morals had apparently not existed in the ancient times, but any morally good act certainly had little reward. Just look at Canis.

In any case... Alpha squinted with a disgruntled huff, "where was the wall?" If it had fallen, then there could be pieces to discern from.

@Pride

"In the tunnel toward Monoceros," Pride answered smoothly. It was what immediately sprang to mind as having lots of carvings and statues and armor and whatnot; he didn't know much about the rest of the caves, so it seemed an easy answer.

If only he had time to fake some evidence.

Still, it gave him an interesting thought; could he do things like this in the future-? Hell, there was no reason not to make such exchanges more direct. Good deeds for neat objects.

Ahh, well, something to think of-... after he'd rested.

Well. Their conversation was probably over, but Pride decided that he may as well be polite. "How have you been, incidentally?" he asked.

@Orthoclase-Alpha

Toward Monoceros. That had somehow seemed convincing. It'd check that later (maybe.) If Pride had made the whole thing up... oh well. The orthoclase might simmer, but burn out before it even made it back to Orion. Fortunate for either of them, knowing their abilities. Another apathetic nod was spared for the stag in response.

"How have you been, incidentally?"

The monstrous hybrid shifted on its feet and thumbed the trigger of its most reflexive response: "okay." But, again, hardly anything anyone accepted that. Not even Vargas, so seemingly hyperfocused on maintaining businesslike practices and unaware of emotions and feeling. Not even Alpha. It could fake all it wanted, but the baseline hollowness didn't sit well in its gut. Hollowness, confusion, dissatisfaction with where it was...

As always, though, it would rather throw itself to the wolves than start to unravel that, than lay itself bare and vulnerable for anyone else. If it couldn't handle itself, then why should anything else?

So, after at least fifteen seconds of tumultuous silence, Alpha shifted its head while its eyes blinked and refocused on Pride. "I've been fine," it resolved in a steely growl. It hadn't noticed how much time had passed since the stag had asked, or how obviously not fine it was. The Overseer unconsciously turned itself somewhat away from him again.

@Pride

The incredibly drawn-out silence said enough. But the beast was, as always, uninterested in conversation. With the impulse of the kind-hearted--despite the fact that he knew it would not be welcome, that Orthoclase-Alpha might even grow angry over it--he offered unasked-for advice.

"Well, that is good to hear. I need to rest--mending your wounds has been taxing. More than expected. But I note that your limbs might be useful for creating things. Have you ever made art, Orthoclase-Alpha? Creations, for their own sake? I am only curious. But I wonder; if you were given clay and paint, what it is that you might make. Food for thought," he added.

At this point he wanted nothing more than to lay his head on the rock and sleep, but he didn't feel safe doing that with the predator around--perhaps it would leave. Or if he were unlucky, it might suddenly decide that it liked conversation.

@Orthoclase-Alpha

It mouthed "mending?" after Pride said as much, but there was hardly any force behind it, to make it a true sound—like an actual spoken word. Lucky for the stag and his desire to sleep, maybe.

Instead, Alpha was distracted by something was simple as making things. Zoisite made things; Selenite made things; Chaos-Two made things; it... did not. Look at it. It was more alien than it was actually Gembound. Vicious talons, pointed quills, four glimmering eyes, teeth made to rend. Raised with little but sublimated anger and the will to survive in its heart and on its mind. All the orthoclase had ever made was its spawn and war. The latter had come first, and the former had been to serve a purpose other than anything resembling love.

"No," it responded, shifting its weight to either foot—the very same with hooked talons that tore through flesh, that Pride thought were capable of creating. Best to quash any hope, too—"I wouldn't make anything," it spat.

Social obligations be damned, the beast turned and half-stumbled away from the throne. Weariness and exhaustion made its muscles sore, but it'd power through it to find some nook of this cave to curl up in and sleep. There was a journey ahead, full of detours or not.

exit, unless stopped
@Pride

...Unsurprising.

When it had run off, Pride pondered for only a moment. He tried to reach for his magic, one little last thing coming to mind--but the magic was as worn as he was. He pushed up, struggling to his feet, and wove his way behind the Throne--and out of the way of prying eyes.

Keep watch, please, he had time to plead with his familiar--and then he was asleep, head and branching antlers curled against his pristine flank.

exit Pride