(haha let's just pretend this happened on Feb. 12 when it was supposed to)

Some Gembound hatched dramatically. Some raged and fought against the stone walls, seeing it as a prison. Some even injured themselves on the shards in their frenzied escape.

This particular radioactive catwhale was not one of them.

It tumbled from its chrysalis quietly--and really, tumbled was a strong word. It was more that the gemstone covering simply fractured and fell away, piece by tiny piece. Basking in the hatchling's residual magic, one even rooted itself into the ground. One could be forgiven for not noticing the change. Its skin and the clusters of bayldonite crystals that made up its chrysalis were both green, after all, and it hardly moved at first.

But eventually, it decided that it was hungry. The hatchling stood up slowly, the last of the vibrant green crystals falling from its wrinkled hide. Large, catlike eyes blinked slowly, taking in their surroundings. ...Are glowy crystals good to eat? it wondered, since those did not move and thus seemed like the easiest targets. Some instinct told it no, thankfully, and it lumbered off in a random direction to seek more delicious things.

There was a big thing sitting in the middle of the river, and it did not move from its spot. It did, however, move in place, and the catwhale wondered what the point of that was. Was this good to eat? It sat, staring hungrily at the whirring thing.

If no other opportunities came along, maybe it should try.

Blight stayed out of the limelight, these days. The goings-on of the cave were increasingly distant from him; he rested, fished, ate and mostly kept to himself. The exceptions were his family: Dread, Svartis, Bone. He mostly lived near Dread in Leo, but periodically he did wander the caves, and he was doing so today.

He was gliding on his tattered wings toward the icy curve of the Crystal River when he spotted it: a strange, greenish child lumbering off toward the Generator. His ghostlight eyes blinked, then squinted; ...What is that? He tried to fill his gaze with magic, to get a closer look, but--nothing. Was it some form of Lesser he was unfamiliar with? The waters had been behaving strangely, lately; maybe it had been ejected by the underground rivers, somehow?

He banked, a few flaps carrying him into another long glide. Then he swept downward, half-circling to come to a hovering, wing-beating halt a dozen or so yards off from, and in front of (and to one side of) the stranger. Long-taloned feet gently touched down, and then he rocked forward to land on his wings, sinuous neck turning to crane toward Bedlam. There was curiosity in his eyes, though perhaps a dragon's face was hard to read, and when he called out his voice was fairly soft.

"Hello? Do you speak?" he asked, getting a better look at it now that he wasn't high up in the air.

It was... cheery-looking, somehow. Almost cute. Chubby and big-eyed, and waddling.

...Huh. He had no idea what it was, but one thing he could say for sure: he'd never seen anything like it. "I'm not here to hurt you," he said, just in case it could understand him.

@Bedlam

Blight was simply added background noise to it, at first. The dragon's wingbeats and movements were nothing more than the rushing water and humming generator: movement, yes, but unimportant.

But then he spoke. Its brain took a moment to register meaning in the words, and oh, now it was interested. Something that communicated? Something whose sounds held meaning, something that wasn't the catwhale's own thoughts and ponderings?

It turned unhurriedly, though inwardly its heart sparked with excitement at this new thing. Wide green eyes took it all in: gargantuan size; tattered wings; glowing green eyes far, far above. Then, slowly, its mouth curved and split open into a delighted grin, showing a neat set of sharp green teeth. "Hello," it mimicked. "Do you speak?"

Unused to the shape of words in its mouth, the catwhale spoke in an oddly stretched-out manner, each word slowed down so it could form the sounds. And then it realized: No. That was not the right question to ask. The tattered dragon had already spoken--asked a question, in fact.

Did it expect an answer?

Oh, well. It figured the answer was pretty self-evident anyway. "Good," it added with a satisfied purr at Blight's reassurance. Hurt was not something it wanted to be. A thought: are there things here to hurt me? It scanned its surroundings, but there was nothing that screamed danger, really. "What... is?" the catwhale asked, fixing its stare on the dragon once more.

@Blight

Awww, the mimicry. Okay, definitely a baby, then. As for "what is," he could only assume it meant himself--or maybe the generator? Blight glanced off toward it, then looked to Bedlam again.

"Dragon," he answered. "I am a dragon. My name is Blight." The words were given slowly enough that hopefully the kid could understand them.

"What is your name--do you have one?"

As an afterthought, he leaned down, touching snout to rock. There was a glimmer of golden light, and then a large, fat banana appeared just lying there before him. He pushed this gently toward the strange cat-whale. "There--hungry?" he asked. "It's a gift. A present." Did the kid eat fruit-? Well, everyone seemed to like this stuff, but hey.

It might've seemed strange, to some--just stopping to chat up a total stranger--but if this was a new kid, he didn't want to leave it to its own devices. Hell, it'd half looked like it wanted to eat the Generator, for a minute there!

@Bedlam

The catwhale stared, a smile still frozen on its face. Its previous question was forgotten in favor of this new development. Dragon was a dragon. But he was also Blight. Was it expected to remember all that? "That's two things," it complained halfheartedly.

As for its own name? It looked uncertainly down at itself. It didn't think it was a dragon. Or Blight. This was the limit of its creativity, as far as names went. "Dunno," it said with a shrug. "Issssss… important?" They were just words. Racking its brains for name ideas was no fun. Quite boring, in fact. It kicked at a nearby pebble with discontent, but immediately brightened at Blight's offering.

"Giffffffffft!" it exclaimed, snatching the banana in a startling quick burst of motion. Sharp green teeth sank into the fabulous yellow fruit, and the catwhale tore off a large chunk and gulped it down in a single violent movement. Only after it had swallowed did it regret neglecting to chew, and it winced as it felt the lump slowly move down its throat. It took a second bite, smaller this time, and chewed.

And chewed.

"Thick," it whined when it finally swallowed again, flopping down at Blight's feet. "No taste." But it was beginning to glitter, and its disappointment was quickly abandoned for a gleeful squeal as it batted at its own paw, trying to catch a wayward sparkle.

@Blight

Definitely a child, if he were any judge. An adorable one, too: all clumsy words and bold complaints. He couldn't help but feel warmed toward it; and the food, at least, seemed to amuse it if nothing else.

Blight laughed, quietly.

"Yeah, it's--something. I guess a name's important; it's how we know who we're talking about, and to, you know-? Instead of just 'hey, you.'" He paused--was he being too complex for a new hatchling? He wasn't sure; the plague dragon didn't have a whole lot of experience with kids. His own had ended after, well, childhood. "I can just call you Squeaky for now, if you want?" It seemed as good a name as any.

"Food's got no taste, huh? Uhhh... Do you like fish? I eat fish; I could show you how to catch some?" and he suddenly felt uneasy. What if he got the kid into danger? Hurt, even? When was he supposed to just leave it to its own devices? Should he, or should he just... look after it, for now?

This was so much (sudden) responsibility!

@Bedlam

The catwhale tilted its head. Squeaky? Well, it was, it supposed. "Oh. Sure," it said, and thought. 'Hey, you' seemed pretty clear to it, since there were only two of them who could talk. Maybe Blight wasn't very smart...? Suddenly, it wanted to reach into the dragon's head and plunk itself in his brain. See through his eyes. Feel what it was like to be big, and scaly. It bet things were really different up there.

"Fish!" it agreed enthusiastically, scrambling to its feet. "I don't know! But I like fish! Fish fish fish." It looked up at Blight. Suddenly, the dragon seemed very big. "How big?" it wondered, staring at Blight's mouth. Maybe it could fit inside there. Maybe fish was as big as it. "Your mouth is bigger than my mouth."

@Blight

He was opening his jaws to answer the 'how big' when the catwhale declared, 'Your mouth is bigger than my mouth.'

His jaws closed again.

Well, it's not... wrong? he decided, in a confused sort of manner. "Yours... might get bigger?" he suggested, not really certain what to say to this.

It was only when he'd turned, wing-walking toward the river, that he belatedly realized that "Squeaky's" question might have been directly related to the size-of-fish query that had come just before. He blinked, and glanced back. "I'll get you something small enough to swallow," he assured, just in case that was it.

Then he made his way to the water's edge. He gave advice, as he went, but he'd never exactly taught kids how to fish so he wasn't really sure he was doing it right. "So, fish live in the water, right-?" (Solid start. Very true.) "You can see them, sort of glinting silver; and you can dive. You need to be quick, and you have to know that where it looks like they are--from above--isn't exactly right. The water makes them look like they're sort of at an angle. So you can sit underwater if you can, and wait for them to get close--or you can jump in and try to grab one. It'll take practice, though.

He considered warning about the cold, the power of the currents here, and the rest; but he wasn't sure if it was too much. What he'd already given was a mouthful for a new kid, as it was; so he settled with just a "Careful, not all water's easy to swim in," with a plan to elaborate later on, if the opportunity presented.

At the shore of the river, he paused and peered in. He tried to see with a little bit of magic, but nothing came, and the water swept past dark and seemingly empty.

He looked to Bedlam, instead. "You see any fish, Squeaky?" he asked; it'd make for a better lesson than him staring at the water going "uuhhh."

@Bedlam

It had to admit, Blight was hilarious sometimes.

Well, okay, it wasn't exactly on purpose. But that didn't matter! Oh, the bemusement on his face! The way his mouth opened, then closed again! The catwhale giggled to itself. Funny things were fun! It wanted more funny things.

A thought struck it. Was it the reason for Blight's confusion? If so, then it was also the ultimate source of the funniness. Oh, what a power this was! The ability to make boring people seem hilarious! It was going to do more of this. It was going to bring joy back into these caves. It giggled again.

Oh, but fish! It wanted fish first. Joy was better on a full stomach, after some yummy yummy (it assumed) fish! It shifted impatiently from foot to foot, practically bouncing on its toes, as Blight spoke. At an angle? So lies. The water was lying to it. But it knew how to fix that! By sitting underwater. Blight had told it that.

"I can!" it interrupted, delightedly. "I'm real good at sitting!" And with that, it jumped. Directly into the Crystal River.

The cold water came as a shock to it, and it gasped in a breath--only the air it inhaled was mixed with water, too, when churning waves splashed against its face. It felt water go up its nose, burning as it went and bringing tears to its eyes. "AHH!" it coughed, doing its best to paddle with its legs and tail and stay afloat. Then it remembered--sit!! It was supposed to sit underwater!!!

That was kind of hard, though. It couldn't float and sit at the same time. Every instinct was telling it to keep paddling, to DON'T SIT WHAT ARE YOU DOING--

But oh, how it wanted fish. Sacrifices had to be made. Fighting its instincts, Bedlam tried to shift its weight onto its rump. Right? Was this what it was supposed to do? Sitting was surprisingly hard in the water.

@Blight laugh track: https://www.bilibili.com/s/video/BV1v4411M7fN at 1:02 from the eggshell

Blight stared.

He was back to bemused. From his standpoint, 'sit underwater' was clear enough; take a breath, hunker down, wait for the fish to pass. This kid was a lot more floaty, it seemed--maybe body weight had to do with it? Blight was all bone and skin; he could swim, sure, but usually he just dove. Swept over the surface, dipped in... skimmed. Or waded, and picked out the fish as he went.

This was, uh. This was new to him.

If confusion was what Bedlam wanted, they got it: written in big, baffled letters across the plague dragon's face as he hesitated again.

"Don't--uhh. Take a breath, don't drown--breathe at the top! Hold your breathe!" He'd neglected to mention that part. He hadn't thought to, and now he was berating himself, worrying himself that he was about to half-drown some poor kid because of his own damn thoughtlessness.

Shit, shit, shit! were his worried thoughts, blank and fearful, for just a moment. But then Bedlam seemed over it, and was trying to slam themselves down on the bottom--with mixed success.

Hurriedly, he scanned the water, magicka glinting behind his already-glowing eyes. "Look, there's fish--there!" he called down, relegated to a winged cheerleader of sorts on the sidelines. "Can you grab that? One of them? Right there--to your left--don't forget to breathe!"

@Bedlam