Pride flicked his ears, and sneezed. Damn this dust, he thought, wrinkling his nose a few times. He was picking his way off toward the Throne, looking for Temperance; there'd been something he'd been meaning to talk to them about now, for rather a long while.

Tail flicked behind him, and he paused, leaning back, to nibble at his hocks for a moment. It was definitely a reason to pause, grooming the white fur there, for a moment. Itchy. Most certainly itchy.

Anyway-... He looked forward again, after a few moments, and started off again. He had to speak to Temperance about his stone-giver. About Nassir. Ah, that was a nice patch of grass; juicy-looking, best not let it go to waste.

A few moments after starting to crop at the grass, Pride realized that he'd been delaying. He didn't want to have this discussion, really. He had a feeling that Temperance would ask more questions than Ember had; with Ember, he'd been able to glance over the worst of it, not mentioning the whole "anyway, I was told your stone-giver burned himself alive to drive evil shadows off of a bunch of Gembounds that mostly died anyway." Thankfully.

With Temperance? Temperance was more talkative than Ember, less likely to accept explanations at face value. He wasn't going to give him the worst of it, either way, but he was debating with himself the morality of white lies in general, especially to his own child. If he lied, if he said he didn't know how Nassir, exactly, had died (and in truth he did have only strong rumors), and Temperance found out later that he'd been lying, he'd destroy their bond of trust. But if he told them-? If he told the poor kid, "well yeah, I heard he drowned horrifically in a mud-pit and then had his body puppeted around to frighten the others?"

...Damn, the Hydra trials were rough.

Pride had determined, at least, to focus on the positive. To tell Temperance about the good qualities Nassir had held; about their bond. He regretted not having been able to tell Ember more about Fireheart--a wolf he'd hardly known. The pup had been disappointed, and he'd felt awful about that--but nobody had really known Fireheart. The wolf had kept rather to himself.

Nassir, though...

Pride took a deep breath, grief welling up anew. "Temperance?" he called, and hoped his child would be somewhere not far off.

@Temperance

Loneliness had plagued Temperance as of late. Though that may have been their own fault. They'd taken to being by themself, recently, preferring to wander alone to face their troubles in silence. Many a rock had been demolished in their efforts to try and tame their magic, but the more they failed, the more frustrated they became and the less they wanted to face anyone lest their temper turn on them instead.

They felt... toxic. The more time they spent alone the more this awful feeling inside of them festered and grew, a bomb about to explode. If they were lucky they'd take it out on a poor rabbit or something and then return home with their best poker face on, but if they weren't they'd return, someone would simply touch them and all hell would break loose.

But right now they felt okay. Sort of. Maybe. Okay enough to have a nap.

"Temperance?"

Oh no. Not their father. Not the stag they'd been specifically avoiding because they just couldn't keep quiet around him. Something about Pride made them open up and that was exactly why they didn't really want to talk to him. Opening up just meant more confusion, more questions, and more bad feelings.

Standing, the half-breed pinned their ears, searching for somewhere to hide. There was a feeling in their chest that pulled them towards Pride, the loneliness acting up again, begging them to slink towards their father and open up like they sorely needed to.

Fighting with themselves, they just stood there, brows furrowed so deeply they were giving themselves a tension headache from it. Closing their eyes, they bit their lip, shoulders dropping.

"Yeah?", they called out reluctantly, picking their way through the uneven ground of Orion, head low.

They had a feeling they weren't going to like this conversation. Despite knowing that Pride wasn't even the kind of person who was conflictive, they still dreaded it. Still wished they could have just been born without all this anger in his chest. Anger that didn't even have a source they could determine.

@Pride

Hmm--is that reluctance in their tone? Pride wondered. He wasn't about to force a conversation on the kid, particularly one not as heavy as this, and so he tilted his head a little as he came up.

"Hello, Temperance. I hope everything's all right-?" he asked, and then glanced around. There was no real sign of what the cub had been doing--nothing really that he could politely remark upon--and so he looked back to his child. "I just wanted to check in with you. I thought that... at some point soon, we might have a conversation about Nassir--about your stonegiver, if you wanted to. It's something I know I told you I'd explain when you got a little older, and, well, here we are," he tried, and it came out awkward, silly; his gentle attempt at humor fell flat, even to himself.

This is so difficult to even broach, he thought, and felt some faint guilty hope that Temperance might simply tell him, "no." To put it off for another day, even though the worried wait would be a burden of its own on Pride. "But if you don't want to have that chat now, I can come back another time--or you can simply seek me out when you would like to hear it. I just wanted to put the offer on the table."

It was all quietly-said, sincere and solemn, but he wouldn't push the cub. They had to be ready to hear this; even omitting the horrific details, it would likely be hard to listen to.

@Temperance

It was so difficult to look at Pride. It was so hard to look his father in the eye and not immediately feel shame. The stag was... perfect. He had a best friend who he connected to so deeply they were practically in each other's heads (he'd laugh at how correct he was at the assumption) with children who'd grown up and left to create their own wonderful lives. Pride had every reason to be proud of himself in everything he'd done that Temperance, at least, had witnessed.

"I was just sleeping," they said, not a lie, but not the whole truth either, "I'm fine, still waking up is all."

Temperance stood a few feet away, head held halfway between tall like how Pride held his own head and where a leopard's head would normally rest. They were grown, now, their body tall and lanky with paws that still seemed a tad too big. Meant to carry more weight than a normal leopard would have to with all the extra bone and muscle their size granted them.

Fluffy ears flicked up as Pride spoke of the leopard of who's stone they carried along their collar bone in spike-like studs, arranged similar to how their father's stones were set. Their eyes widened and they stared for a moment, frowning in thought rather than anger.

"... I want to know," they said slowly, "I want to know what he was like."

Half of them just wanted to be Nassir. If Nassir had the same anger they did, then maybe they could learn exactly how their stone-giver got rid of it. Half of them rejected the thought entirely and fought to be like Pride instead, but seeing as their magic was nowhere near the strength nor control of Pride's and the fact that unlike him, they relied on emotions to dictate their actions instead of their brain, it wasn't going too well. They may as well try something new, right?

@Pride

Pride had no idea, of course, of his child's inner condundrums. He knew--he could only know--what he was told, and he accepted this at respectful face value. He could only hope that whatever talks Mercurius had shared (Pride had done his best not to listen in, to break that privacy) had done Temperance some good.

"Well, take your time in waking," he began, easygoing. A roll of his own shoulders, as he glanced away, out over Orion--not away from Temperance, per se, but simply thoughtful. "I should have better considered how to begin," he... began, glancing with sad humor at Temperance.

He turned, pacing closer, reaching for his magic. "Let me see if I can start by showing Nassir to you," he suggested, gently. He wasn't sure if the magic would come, but it had been something-... poignant, he thought, for Ember. Ember had looked upon the image of Fireheart for long and silent moments; surely Temperance deserved the same.

He came up alongside the hybrid--if Temperance allowed it--and turned to face the same direction, focusing on a space a few feet away. The air began to shimmer, then flicker, and Pride found it harder to maintain than he'd hoped: but it was there, a halting (shifting, at first) image of a melanistic leopard, with milky eyes and a quartz-tipped tail. Even in the image--as unsteady as it was--there was a sort of shyness to him, a haunted slink to his posture, a soft gentleness to his pose. It was how Pride remembered him; a little tentative (never wanting to intrude) but confident in his support of others, ready to slip up and offer a kind word when it was needed. But Nassir had, too, always been exactly haunted by his past, some grim tale of fairies and a terrible fall, of toxic chemicals and nightmare. It had left him with (or perhaps he'd always had) the soft wariness of a wild thing.

"He was... kind," Pride began, quietly. "Soft-spoken, a little unsure of himself, at times. Unless he was helping someone; it was when he offered his advice, his support, that he was at his strongest. I think... at those times, his heart knew that he was right, even when his mind was uncertain." It was a quiet observation, given with the image still standing there; he shifted it a little, so it seemed to look at Temperance, to peer at them like some strange ghost. "When I was near to breaking, at times, he would come and hear my words, and offer reassurance. But he held his own fears, too. Things that had come for him, harmed him, in the past. I imagine they... followed him, in his dreams, his worries. He was always a little tentative, a little soft," and Pride didn't say this like they were bad things.

He'd move on, but first he paused--to see if Temperance had anything to say, or any questions. Undoubtedly the "how did he die" would come soon, if Pride didn't get there first; but he didn't want to overload the cub with too many things at once. The vision alone was liable to be overwhelming.

He'd give them some time to adjust.

@Temperance

Temperance sat down slowly, shoulders still tense and slightly hunched. They were scared. The universe couldn't be so cruel as to give them this olive branch only to reveal the stem has thorns once they grasped it. There had to be a way to at least tamp down their bubbling emotions, even now when they were supposed to be calm.

"... Yeah," they said softly, watching their father look away and then back again, "You take your time too. I don't really have anywhere to be so... there's time."

An awkward attempt to return the kind words. Whether it worked or not would have to be deemed by the stag's reaction.

Temperance watched Pride walk over, his words making him nervous. Show them Nassir? Most likely with one of those light spells Pride liked to use to tell them and Ember stories with. They almost couldn't look as the image appeared, their predecessor staring them in the face.

Pale eyes slowly turned, staring at the black shape that was nearly a mirror image of their own, if not for the tail and the stoutness. Their stone-giver. But was he truly a giver if he'd just died and had his stone taken? Stone-taken, maybe. But then again, Pride knew Nassir, perhaps Nassir would have willingly given it anyway. It seemed so.

"... He sounds nice," they breathed, forcing back tears of dismay, "Was he... always like this?"

Please. Oh please let there be a time in Nassir's life they could use as example to better their own. It was horribly selfish to learn from the history of the dead for one's own usage, but they didn't care at this point. Maybe once they were better (at least, their definition of better) they could feel guilty, but not now.

They could feel emotion bubbling up like water simmering.

@Pride

Temperance's quiet reassurance was met with a light nod from Pride, one of solemn acknowledgement. He was always polite, of course, in his dealings, but he did add on a quiet "Thank you," before continuing.

The quiet question left Pride thinking it over, glancing at his own image, though it now faded. "I did not know him from his hatching," he admitted; "I met him later on in life. He'd already been through a great deal--trauma, I think. I came, too, to tell you a little of how he died," and silver eyes cut back toward the cub, troubled, "It was important to who he was, and I think it's something you should know, though even I haven't got every detail. Are you ready to hear that?" he asked, and his caution kept a gentle tone.

@Temperance

Temperance couldn't hide the disappointment that flashed over their face. There would be no answers here today and it only added to the boiling pot of various negative emotions. Anger mixing with disappointment and selfishness to make some kind of weird stew.

"... I dunno," they admitted, "When am I ever going to be ready to hear how he died?"

The stone embedded in their chest felt heavy, weighed down with guilt. Guilty that they couldn't live up to the greatness that was Nassir.

"... Yeah, I'm ready," they mumbled, knowing they wouldn't like what Pride would have to say.

'Nassir died selflessly,' Pride would say. 'Nassir was better than you,' would be the underlying meaning, whether Pride knew it or not.

Maybe he wasn't ready, but it was too late to take it back. At least, Temperance thought it was. Of course he could take it back but he still felt like he couldn't. Like now he had to see it through.

@Pride

Pride gave a little sigh--a sad exhale--and nodded. "You're right, I suppose nobody is ever really ready. But still--you have the right to know." Pride paused, considering this, studying Temperance sadly for a moment. "...After we talk, if you're upset, we can do something else, if you like. Visit Tenzin in Pisces, maybe. Go to Pegasus, if you'd like to see it. I don't plan to dump this on you and then leave you with it," he added, a little more open, more blunt, than usual. "There are many beautiful places in the caves that you haven't been to."

Was it like offering ice cream after a dentist visit-? Perhaps, but just a little more grim than that.

Pride exhaled, pacing slowly, very distinctly troubled. He was tense, and it showed in every line of his body: stressed, ears flicking forward, then back, head raising and then lowering, as he tried to figure out how best to addres all of this. How to begin. And when he turned back to face Temperance, his was not the usual stoic calm, the peaceful father; he was clearly saddened, made miserable by memory. The grief had welled back up with even the thought of Nassir's loss, and it showed in the sag of his features and the droop of his ears.

"Forgive me, it's--it is difficult for me, as well. But I will do my best. Nassir was one of the Seven--you know that. I've told you... a little; how he wished to help others, to guard them, guide them. When he joined us--when I first met him--he had only recently emerged from a long sleep," and Pride turned away again, pacing, pacing, pacing. The click of his hooves played anxious drumbeat to his words. Yet even so he stole concerned glances back at Temperance as he talked; how was the cub taking this? "Thrown to his chrysalis by trickery. His sleep had been haunted by visions--nightmares--of creatures tormenting him, instead of dreamless, as it usually is. When he woke it was in a pool of poison, and his blood had turned blue. He went to the master Tenzin to heal him--and Tenzin did, he is a kind, good being. But Nassir was... still haunted, after that. He could barely speak, stammering each word. He feared--feared everything, I think."

Pride thought back, eyes growing distant, and came to a slow halt on the rock. "When he arrived--forgive me, Temperance, I know I am going back rather a ways but... I want to tell you everything." And I need to work up to it. To his death. His loss. "But when he arrived I was fixing those bones atop the back of the Throne. You've seen them-? I haven't ever told you about them--an enemy of the Seven, in our formation, and there's a lesson in that too, if you ever want to hear it. A lesson about enemies, about rage and temper." The white stag's nostrils briefly flared, and Temperance was granted the briefest glimpse of Pride in anger: ears sweeping forward, eyes sharpening. He did not often look dangerous, but for a moment--standing tall and stiff--he did. If the cub held concerns about their temper, they needed look no further than this.

"I had killed her, and I was fixing her bones atop the back of the Throne with diamond, as a warning to others who might threaten us. Nassir arrived, and it was rather awkward timing... but I explained that she had threatened innocents. That we had to protect those who could not protect themselves. Though stammering--though still tormented by his dreams--he chose to join us. It was a remarkable show of strength, I think, given what he'd been through."

Back, then, to pacing: to turning, clicking, unable to stand still. "And he lived up to it. When we were called to fight Mother's influence in Cetus, Nassir came, and he stood alongside the cave's finest soldiers. It wasn't his magic or power that helped the most, though. Not for me. It was his kind words, afterward. His quiet sympathy. The others--they were fighters, but Nassir... Nassir was a healer, in his heart, I think. Through and through. Even if his magic didn't mend, his mind, his words--they did."

Pride exhaled, and turned away again, circling slowly.

"When word came of the trial in Hydra, he went, along with Fireheart--that's Ember's stonegiver--to try and protect others. I told them it was a fool's errand. That those Gembounds were going by their own free will." Pride paused, a moment, thoughtful--in motion and in word. "I was wrong," he added, and half-glanced back at Temperance, guilt flickering through him. "There were those there that were hardly more than children, forced into Hydra against their wills. Nassir, Fireheart--they did everything they could to save them. And I know some lived because of their intervention. The group--from what I was told--was closed into Hydra; and then the cave went dark. Anyone who strayed, vanished. Did not come back. Bodies were found. They couldn't see what was killing them. I don't know exactly what got Nassir--I don't think anyone does. To my memory, he died pulling someone from a silt pit, someone who then escaped. But I don't know who--only that they escaped, and that he drowned in their stead. All I know is, he did not make it out. But those children did."

Turn, pace, click.

"Some came, to thank us, and in time I ventured back to find his stone. One of those children served as my guide: we took back his stone. Fireheart's. That of a dog I hadn't met, someone else who died there." He still had that one; he'd been waiting for someone to step forward, to claim it. But no one had; perhaps it was time to grant it, too, life. Pride considered, and then resolved to do so, if it came to that. "I don't know what his last moments were like. But I know that others still live full, whole lives because of him."

Pride turned, looking back at Temperance. "I brought his stone back to life, in you. Not because I wanted to remake Nassir," and he had no idea how close this might be to Temperance's thoughts, "but because he would have wanted new life to spring up in his stead. For someone to live, instead of that stone lying dead. I think," he added, a little sadly, "that he would have liked to meet you."

As temperamental as Temperance could be, they were not a bad child; and Nassir would have been a wonderful guiding influence. "I think you would have gotten along with one another very much, and I'm sorry that it cannot be."

@Temperance

Temperance was silent. But what they didn't say could be seen clearly on their face. Distraught, grief, anger. They wore their heart on their sleeve, every emotion they felt flickering across their muzzle, expressions changing minute to minute.

"Dad...", they said softly, eyes watery, "You- I-"

They went quiet again and stood, sniffling softly before gently letting their head rest against Pride's front, "... I am so sorry. He sounded... he sounded like an amazing person a-and a good friend."

They did need to learn from Nassir, but not in the way they thought they did.

"... I-I think I know what to do," they said softly, "I um... I thought that maybe I'd be able to learn if Nassir had this anger I do, b-but I don't think that's it. It's not anger, it's... something else. Something emotional, maybe? I don't know."

Temperance pulled away, muscles tense, eyes watery, "... I-I've been so selfish. I wanted to know about Nassir because I wanted to see if his experiences could be used to better myself. I-I've only cared about myself! I only cared about trying to better myself and neglecting everyone else."

It pained them horribly to say this to Pride, their father who they'd been treating so poorly. They'd vented to him, expected him to fix things, but it was an unreasonable expectation and they'd neglected the stag's own feelings. But such things had to be said.

"I-I... I'm... I'm here," they said, looking over at Pride, desperately holding back tears, "I-I'm here for you. You've dealt with so much of my freak outs a-and it's unfair! It's unfair that I've been using you as a tool instead of treating you with the respect you deserve. I don't know how to change but I'm going to try."

Temperance couldn't help but cry, tears welling up and falling as they tried hard not to sob, to get through their last sentence.

"I'm sorry," they sniffled, "I-I love you. I-I'm here for you."

@Pride