Temperance's lip wobbled until they couldn't stop himself from crying just a little. They wiped their eyes with a paw and leaned into their father, standing up so they could properly snuggle into him, seeking comfort.

"I'm just- I'm mad," he said, face scrunching unhappily, "I don't know how to stop! Sometimes I'll be doing nothing and then Ember says something and I want to hiss at him even though I know it's wrong. O-or I'll be training and mess up and feel really really bad about it."

He was putting way too much pressure on himself for being as young as he was. But having to live up to Pride as a parent was a big deal, and he was scared he wouldn't.

"I want to be as good as you are," he said, tail swishing back and forth, "But you're so calm and collected a-and I'm not."

@Pride

Pride considered his child's words, giving them his full attention and thought for a few moments--trying to really understand them--before even attempting any sort of answer. Oh, he could've rattled off the usual advice--'take your time,' 'practice,' all that sort of thing, but he'd been over it already and there was more here than that.

Slowly he lowered himself to knees, then hocks, then laid on chest and side against Temperance's nudges. 'I'm not going anywhere,' his body language said; 'I'm here for you,' and 'we're in no rush.' An ear flicked and he looked off toward the Throne; toward the bones atop it. He knew what anger was like, and how difficult it could be to rein it in.

He could feel Mercy lingering at the edge of his consciousness, equally concerned, and his gentle presence was a help that Pride briefly leaned on as he thought.

When at last he spoke, glancing to Temperance with a placid, but concerned, gaze, it was with slow and measured words.

"Well, I can tell you two things: first, I'm not as calm and collected as I might seem. I have to work at that, hm? But you shouldn't compare yourself to me--that's the second thing. The only person you ever need to compete with is yourself," he said gently, reaching out his nose to attempt a nudge. "We're all different--every living thing. It's about being the best that you can be. Everyone has their strengths; no one is perfect at everything. Or even perfect at one or two things. So with that in mind, let me ask--I'd like to make sure I'm understanding you completely, all right?"

He glanced at Temperance, at the upset little kid he hadn't ever seen coming. "You feel angry a lot, you're saying? And frustrated? And you're saying that makes you even more upset, because you feel like you're failing at self-control?" His words were gentle; a slow summary, a question: was he understanding his child correctly?

He wanted to be sure that he was reading everything right; communication, as he'd said, was key.

@Temperance

Temperance crawled over Pride's legs once he'd laid down, tripping over himself as he snuggled into his father's side, his head thumping against his chest comically. He lifted his head as Pride began to speak, eyes wet with tears that he absolutely refused to shed.

At the nudge he reciprocated, his boop much more clumsy though no less affectionate. It seemed like his lack of affection stemmed from his anger, and now that it was being dealt with, he was much more comfortable.

"Yeah," he sniffed, "It's like... rolling down a hill? Once you get rolling more grass and dirt gets stuck to you, it's like that. Once I'm angry I can't stop until I just... blow up."

He looked down, ashamed, his ears pinned and tail tucked close, "I don't know how to stop being angry without... without hurting something to do it. Like blowing up rocks or something."

@Pride

Pride listened, and Pride considered. This wasn't the sort of thing for which he could rattle off an easy fix, and for good reason. Well, reasons; first, and foremost, he didn't know where the cub's anger was coming from. He lay gently available to Temperance, to the affection and closeness, reciprocating with a light lick at the cub's head but his mind was half elsewhere. If he'd known where the anger was from it'd be easier to handle, of course; well, most likely. But what if it were something with a source not easily removed? Pride's anger only cropped up, really, at injustice and when it did it was unquenchable. Nassir had reassured him about it and more than that, Mercy had always provided a quietly stabilizing force--Mercy's gentle confidence. He could guess that Mercy would be a better parent to talk to about these things--or would he? Did Mercy have experience with anger?

Have you ever been angry? he sent, an amused thought, to Mercy; this entire thought process was open to the lion regardless and this was a loving message sent straight mind-to-mind.

But the Temperance was the only one, in the end, who could speak for himself--for his reasons--even though he likely didn't understand them. So Pride tried to coax this out of him, thoughtful. "You say you get angry over very little, too-? You mentioned Ember; had he done anything to annoy you? Was he simply--too slow at something?" The wolf-dragon was certainly slower-paced; not necessarily stupid but almost lumbering his way through childhood. Maybe he was frustrating Temperance, somehow, in his behavior..? "Can you think of things that normally make you angry, aside from magic? And--be careful; if you're thinking about them it might make you mad all over again. I'm not trying to do that, okay? I want to help you, but to do that I want to figure out what's making you mad to begin with. It's all right if you don't know," he added.

His own anger wasn't like that; Temperance was right in saying that Pride was relatively well-controlled. His anger had a very specific trigger, so this rather explosive one--maybe it was just... a kid thing? Something Temperance would grow out of?

He knew that he had experiences with rage that Mercurius did not, but it didn't seem wise to share those with such a young cub just yet. Maybe he could... simplify it, a little.

Leave out the blood, and death.

One so young doesn't need to know these things.

@Temperance

Temperance pulled away a little so they could sit beside Pride rather than snuggled up against him. They could only take so much smothering affection before he became uncomfortable, and then annoyed, and then they lashed out.

"Ember is perfect," they said, but it was uncertain if it was spat in defense or in anger, "He's just great! He can fly, he looks cool- he's half dragon, dad! He's cool!!"

They were so envious of him in all honesty. Envious of him and Pride and Mercy. How they all were big and great and white and shining. They were the literal black sheep, a black cub with anger in their heart, different from the rest of their family. They stuck out like a sore thumb.

"... I don't feel like I stand up to him," they sniffed, "To anyone. Like you're the leader of the Seven and his dad's a dragon and he's part dragon, and then there's papa who's basically pure goodness in a bottle and then there's just me! I-I'm nothing good! So I just get angrier and I look for things that are worse in others to feel better about myself but I don't feel better! I feel worse!"

Temperance was trying really hard not to cry but he was anyway, their shoulders shaking.

"I'm just a dummy," they mumbled, "I went and got my tail broken because I was just looking for attention and now I just feel stupid about it."

They tucked their tail under their feet and slumped, looking away from Pride, ashamed of themselves. What kind of child were they? Pride had Jampa, had Ember, probably had other kids who weren't as problematic as them. If Temperance was Pride they'd have just left them.

@Pride

A white ear flicked as he listened, and he grew more and more troubled. He could understand the logic behind Temperance's words, but where had his parents--his family--ever given him the idea that he was not loved, not valued? Not worth them..? He'd never really made any of them out to be big, or important, so it must have been assumptions on Temperance's part. Insecurity? he wondered; was the cub feeling useless, so imagining everyone else to be greater than they were?

Pride considered how to address this. Again, he was mostly out of his depth; but he had seen this before in others, and had a little experience in dealing with it. He remembered James doubting himself into tears, more than once; Livius always believing themselves to be too little, too weak. Reassurance, at least, he could do.

"You know, you aren't the only one to think that," he started, slowly. "There's a lot of Gembound out there who think everyone else is better than them. That they aren't enough--that they'll never be enough. It's a very normal thought. And it isn't true. Everyone's unique. Don't ever look down on someone, Temperance--least of all yourself--if you don't see something amazing right away. They're amazing because they exist; they live, they see the world through their own eyes. Everyone has their own perspective to offer, their own thoughts, their own heart. Your species, or your physical form, doesn't change that."

He paused a moment, to let the cub perhaps mull this over, and then continued. His words were measured, gentle as he could manage; he only hoped he hit some sort of chord with the his words, and didn't simply bore or confuse him.

"I know this is a lot of words," he added, a little drily--in a self-deprecating way--remembering Jampa's tantrums when he'd talked too much. "But they're important ones. Whatever measure you're using to judge yourself, it's wrong--until you find one that tells you you're as valued as everyone else. Because you are. I don't love or value you any less than my other children. And your potential--as a person, as a magic-user, as a hero, as a toolmaker--as whatever you want to be--is just as great as anyone else's. You needn't worry about proving yourself; not to your family or to anyone else. Just relax, and be who you want to be. We will love you no matter what you choose to become!"

He wanted to tell him about Nassir, now--it would have been a perfect time, to point out that his lineage was wonderful, that he had history behind him. But Pride felt it would undermine, right now, the message he was trying to so strongly impart: that history and expectations weren't what mattered.

"What matters is being happy in life, whatever you do; and we'll always be family, Temperance. There's nothing wrong with you; there's nothing you're doing wrong. Mistakes--like with your tail--are something we all make, and we shouldn't judge ourselves or others for making them. They're just a part of life."

He would've nudged the trembling child's shoulder, but Temperance had pulled a little away, and he decided instead to respect that; he'd offer warmth and words, as best he could--and it wasn't perfect; it never would be, but it was all that he could give.

He'd see what the child would do with it--and he was pensive, worried, in case it wasn't enough.

@Temperance

Temperance listened, their eyes downcast. Pride spoke and Temperance listened, ears tilted back to catch every word.

"... But what if who I am is awful, dad?", they asked, turning their head, "Will you love me then?"

Eyes glinted, reflecting under the dim lights of Orion. They looked sad and scared, frankly. And guilty.

"It's not too many words, it's not enough!", they said, standing and starting to pace, "I-I want to know what's wrong with me! Why I can't hunt like normal, why I want to run away and stand in place at the same time, why I can't eat grass or meat without feeling a bit weird about them both! Why am I so angry, why don't I feel good enough!"

Pressure was building and building, their words frantic, the words of a very confused cub.

"I can't relax!", they yelled.

Magic fizzled, thankfully, their lack of control apparent as they looked at Pride with faint horror. At least nothing had happened, but if it had...

"... I'm sorry," they said, planting their butt down and sitting still, as if moving would set them off again.

"... I don't want to be me," they sniffled.

@Pride

More questions, more demands--a shout, apologies for what Pride assumed was the verbal outburst. He sighed. "You won't be awful so long as you care for others, Temperance, and I'll always love you regardless. I'd try to help you if you took that sort of path--hurting others. To turn you away from it, because that, is never the answer." This came with a more stern look--a serious one, a solemn one. "Whatever we do, we never take it out on others. Everyone in these caves has worries, like you do. Family, like you do. They love, and fear, and hope, like you and I. The only awful thing is to hurt those Gembounds without cause, understand-? Anything else you do--anything you become--is perfect; it's fine."

He paused, thinking. "I don't know why you want to--run and stand still at the same time. Try both, one after the other, hm? As for meat and grass--you are half leopard, and half stag." It occurred to Pride, as he spoke, that maybe this was the source of half the cub's stress..? Maybe his diet wasn't fulfilling his growing body properly; maybe it was bubbling up in anguish, impatience, anxiety. "We can try other foods, if you like. Fish, or fungus, or just fruit."

He nudged a banana forward--one appearing out of thin air--and went on. "These, at least, are magic and should help you either way. As for the rest, the honest answer is that I don't know. I don't know everything; but you have my support, and you have Mercy's, no matter what happens. He may be better to speak with about your--restless feelings?" he suggested.

He hesitated for a moment, and then cast a brief mental apology to Mercy. I'm going to hint at your past, Mercy. I don't mean to break your privacy but I think it's important Temperance knows who he can speak to. I won't say much, he added, and then gently spoke aloud. He drew closer to say the words, which were given very quietly, hushed like half a secret. "Your lion father's been through a lot, Temperance. I don't think he'll tell you everything--certainly not until you're older. But he will understand what it's like to go through troubled times. He might have better advice than I do; he's certainly always been the gentler of the two of us."

Pride debated, for a moment. Was it possible that something from Nassir had trickled into this child? He didn't think that memories or feelings really passed from parent to child; some personality, perhaps, but Temperance showed nothing of Nassir in him. And, for that matter, very little Pride. He was his own creature, unique and wonderful in his own way, but Pride couldn't find a source for his worries in either parent, so that line of questioning faded in his mind rather quickly. Hmm.

"In the meantime, do you want to try and relax a little? I'll try and think about what you've told me, maybe talk to Mercy, see if we can't think of something that will help you. We shouldn't practice now; you're too upset, and magic will only hurt us both if we try to use it while upset--remember that. I can tell you a story, if you want-? Something real, if you like, or something made-up." He'd already resolved not to tell Temperance of Nassir yet; this was absolutely not the time, now more than ever. But the cub had little reason to ask of that just now, and if he did, Pride would gently redirect it.

@Temperance

Predator and prey. They had both the hunting instincts of a leopard and those of a stag, and with it the wiring, too. The urge to run away from conflict while at the same time to fight back against it. An anxiety that would normally allow a prey creature to be aware of its surroundings that conflicted the direct focus of an ambush predator.

The need to lash out at what was hurting them and to huddle in on themself instead.

Temperance stared at the banana and sniffled, pawing at it for a moment, "Magic? I don't... it doesn't look magical."

They bit into it and scrunched their nose at the sweet taste, unsure if they liked it. They took another bite, and another, quickly finding that yes, he liked sweetness. It was new but it wasn't bad. They would rethink that opinion once they realized that it caused them to sparkle, but that was for later.

"Not a story," they said, tail lashing behind them, "I don't know. I don't want to sit right now. Can we play a game or something?"

But even games made them angry, made them feel awful when it was something one could win or lose at. If they lost they felt lesser and weaker. Tag, hide and seek, scavenger hunts. No games.

"... What if we just... walked?", they said, visibly frustrated.

Temperance couldn't possibly be terrible at walking, right? All you had to do was put one foot in front of the other and keep going forward in whatever direction looked the most interesting. There was nothing angry about walking or even running just for fun. Unless they found a way to ruin even that.

"Where is he? Papa, I mean," he clarified, "Could we walk to him or something?"

@Pride

"We can simply walk," Pride agreed, companionably. A brief peak, a silent consultation, along his link and he had located Mercurius easily enough. "He should be in his garden, I think. Near where you were hatched."

He cast a brief, mischievous glance to the cub. "You're sparkling," he observed, amused but kindly; "It's the fruit. It will wear off soon. Pretty, no?"

Hoof-clicks echoed over the stone as he began to lead the way, a quiet and unhurried walk. And a thought occurred to him--a thought that might even help Temperance, to hear of. "...Have I ever told you how I met Mercy?" he asked. He hadn't, now that he thought on it. He glanced to the black cub, thinking. "Do you wish to hear of it?"

It was only a short tale, but it would bridge the gap of their little walk, and it might give the little one something to think on.

@Temperance