- THE LEVIATHAN -

Orthoclase-Alpha's departure had left some things lost in the mix--swept into the cracks and missed, over and over again. Every few days, Vargas would remember something that was now primarily his responsibility, again; something he hadn't thought about, worried about, kept in the back of his mind.

He was in the middle of eating a tunnel runner--mouth full of meat--when he remembered Vjira. "SHFFT," he blurted, then immediately coughed out the chunk he'd nearly inhaled.

Vjira--he'd looked after her initially--his own half-creation--and then nearly forgotten about her. Some back-of-his-mind instinct had assured him that his Overseer would take over, and handle, her training. But he didn't have an Overseer. Not anymore.

The Leviathan wolfed down the rest of his meal--a couple quick, tearing bites and greedy swallows--and then pushed up and paced into Draco proper. He offered a brief nod to the Sentinel, who simply stared at him, turning only his head--and only slightly--to watch him pass. Vargas's mind was elsewhere.

Vjira was... difficult. A puzzle. Not deliberately; she was cooperative enough, that much was certain. But her communications skills were questionable at best--nearly nonexistent. He still wasn't sure how much she understood.

He'd have to look for her, try to gauge if she'd progressed at all, and think about where to go from here. If she still couldn't grasp all that much, maybe he could lead by doing, and initiate training, or a spar, physically. It'd be difficult to get her to understand that it was only practice, perhaps, but likely doable; and he often found that starting something was the best way to get better at it.

Maybe if he began to train her, she'd... just start to learn. Pick up one piece, and build on it; and so on, down the line.

He could only hope.

"VJIRA?" he bellowed, voice echoing around the area near the Aperture. If she wasn't here, he might have some searching to do--hopefully, she hadn't gone far.

@Vjira

Vjira hadn't entirely wandered off this time when it came to Vargas looking for her. She was looking at the Black Spire - watching the thing move. Which, would have been weird if she wasn't completely amazed by the thing - completely enraptured, even. Still, the shrill of Vargas did not go unnoticed. Vjira almost ignored him completely in favor of watching the dark thing, still, she was getting kind of bored. Even if she didn't know exactly what bored felt like.

Eventually, the valkhound turned, purple spotting purple, and Vjira plodded over to him like a proud pet holding a catch to show off. Vjira, obviously, did not have a catch to show off. She'd not gone hunting in this particular area, truthfully. Her attention was always too focused on the things outside this particular space. Since she was kind of 'born' here. Of course, she herself did not know that fact, or how to put words into that.

The valkhound only offered a soft rumble as she looked up at the parent.

@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Ahh, here she was--and again demonstrating that, at least, she knew her name. (And this was not a derogatory thought--she did not speak, but he was guessing, hoping, that she could comprehend; she generally seemed to at least get the gist of his words.)

"Ahh, there you are." He paced over, nodding once, and then rolled his shoulders as he stood before her. "I would like to teach you how to fight. Do you understand-?" he asked, tilting his head. "You can nod yes, if you do, or shake your head no, if you do not." He demonstrated, meanwhile.

He wondered if the strange anatomy she bore could be perhaps used for soundless communication--but that would take time to work on and teach, if it weren't already instinctive, and he had another lesson in mind for today.

"I will teach you how to stand, and how to read your enemy; where to strike, what to expect--yes?"

He hoped that she understood--this would be very difficult indeed without comprehension.

@Vjira

It wasn't that Vjira understood his words, it was more that she was around when he spoke them. By the tone, more than anything, it sounded like he wanted someone's attention. She might still have approached if he said literally anything else, as long as the tone wasn't obviously furious. Still, Vargas wouldn't have known that just yet.

At his words, Vjira just sat there watching him move, listening but not understanding a lick of what was there. He didn't sound angry with her, nor happy, but it was some kind of emotion she didn't get. Calmness wasn't something the Valkhound truly understood - or was it just normal conversations? Either way, she just sat there watching him. Vjira must have been frustrating for anyone else, but she did show some resemblance of understanding when shown what to do.

This, was not that though. So she was left with confusion bleeding through her head without a word to put to it. Her color-changing bits were softly changing, like they always did. Still, she had no words for those, either. Vjira did mimic the larger valkhound's movements when he did show her things - or... Well, point at them. As evidence by the telling her where to go before.

This was different, her eyes stared, blinking in intervals so she could always watch. Confusion.

@Vargas
[I am so sorry for her ;-; she'll get a hang of the fighting thing eventually]

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Vargas stared, blankly.

When she did not respond--not that he'd expected speech, but something--he grunted. Slowly, he lowered himself to his haunches, thinking.

He had to admit to himself that she just wasn't picking up language. He really wasn't sure why--he didn't mind muteness, but could she not even understand-? It had been more than long enough. It may be best to give this one to Dhracia, then... or teach her to fission; at least the spawn wouldn't be expected to hold conversations, he thought, and pondered that for a moment. It had its drawbacks, and its benefits, but it was clear that Vjira wasn't really going to serve another purpose in the Forge.

It was a shame that the Arcane master was gone... or dead--Vargas still wasn't sure where they were on that front but given Raheerah's removal, he had to assume that she was wholly out of the equation. Which left him with trying to hunt down a simple Gembound that held such magic, instead.

Almost at once he realized something else that he was missing; a messenger. Someone he could send to scout or bring a message throughout the caves, by wing (obviously), quickly. Delta was an assassin--he wasn't about to relegate it to mere mailman. The Agate he could've never trusted with such a task. Khavur, for all his size, was too damn bulky. No--he needed a bird, really. He'd have to hunt for one--or make one--once the Ursa situation was dealt with; hell, maybe he'd run into someone there. Find a bird or a bat as a scout and messenger; send it out to find a Gembound with mind-magic to teach Vjira words, at least for comprehension, he noted to himself.

Vargas studied her a moment longer, then pushed up. "I need to teach you to fight. But I cannot do that if you cannot understand a single word. Can you give me any indication?" he asked, but his dissappointment was rising.

Yes, he could simply spar with her, and that would teach her a little by experience. But the foundations were necessary. He could not teach her to avoid teeth and go for the inner thigh without actually severing arteries; he could not teach her of which tendons to tear for crippling without doing so. It was rather a tough situation, and he was unsure as to what to do.

@Vjira

Vjira had no lick of understanding to what Vargas was trying to say to her - she hadn't since she hatched. At least when it came to things that weren't happening in front of her face. With the hunting it was easy enough to understand what she was supposed to do - everyone needed to eat, it was simply getting to the point of eating that needed to be done. To get to that point, you needed to capture prey. Vargas found the prey, Vedette brought it to her, and Vjira caught it. It was a simple task that did not require much brainpower for her to understand.

With this, though, there was nothing going on in front of her face, it was just Vargas making various sounds at her that she did not know how to attain to words. There was nothing to show her, exactly, which meant there was nothing for her to match the sounds he was making to. With her name it was starting to stick, at least. Almost like how people called their pets names and they somehow knew the sound. Explaining things at her was not the same. She couldn't put the sounds coming from him to anything specific since there wasn't anything specific going on - not that Vjira was aware she was putting sounds to things in the first place, anyway.

She did, though, release a soft rumble back at him.

@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

He stared, and took another breath. Well, what could he do..?

At length he stepped over, and aimed a light swat at Vjira's forelimb. It was barely a touch, if even it 'hit,' and he spoke meanwhile. "Spar, yes? Spar, do you understand? A pretend fight?" He did it again, and then a light dodge and weave: a primal invitation to play-fight.

Would she understand-? He hoped so. His experience with non-verbal creatures was slim, at best.

@Vjira

Vjira watched as Vargas moved, sticking to her spot. He didn't seem particularly upset, or, excited. Mostly bored. When he 'swatted' at her - honestly, it was more of a pat than a swat. Vjira watched, blinked, turned her head up to him and stood to her feet. A tongue flicked over pointy teeth in a motion alike to one of brushing something off of her mouth.

When he did it again, she copied. Swatting at him and bouncing back and forth a couple of times. Was he trying to get her to copy him? She could do that!

@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

"Good," he said, but it was a calm tone, not a booming one--relief, more than enthusiasm.

He turned, giving a short hop back from one of the swats--a further invitation, a gesture that might easily be misinterpreted as playful if anyone were to ever think of Vargas in the same sentence as "play." He began a short series of dodges interspersed with hops toward Vjira, mock-lunges that did not truly attempt to connect.

It wasn't truly a spar--not yet; but it was reinforcement of what he wanted. A fight, but a play-fight. Wrestling, fighting, but not out of malice or rage.

Would she understand?

@Vjira

Vjira, somehow, did understand what was going on here. For the most part, anyway. She recognized his movements as 'play fighting' for the most part. Vjira already had gotten into squabbles before, and she knew what an actual fight looked like, and this was not that. It meant that she couldn't hurt Vargas right? At least, it seemed that way. He wasn't hurting her either so Vjira didn't have a reason to go all-out anyway.

During one of Vargas' hops to her, Vjira stepped backwards. The flaps at the end of her tail dragged on the ground under her awkwardly, and Vjira lifted that appendage slightly so it stopped doing it. It couldn't be dragging on the ground, or she'd get it dirty, it couldn't drag on the ground or she would trip over her own limbs. Simple enough.

Vjira went forward to send a 'swipe' at him, but it was more playful than anything else.

@Vargas