A dusty slab of stone jutted from the floor, the bones piled about its base. No different from any other rock formation, at a glance, it was boring to look at: coated with centuries of dust, its formerly cloudy surface turned opaque with the thin, water-fed sheeting of old limestone. It was part of a large formation, sandstone perhaps, that stretched up in bulbous time-chewed lopsidedness to grasp for the ceiling, though it never quite made it there; a hefty stalagmite that really wasn't much to look at.

Not, at least, until it cracked. The noise was noticeable in the silence of this area, like a tomb at last being broken open. A single dark stretch, a hairline fracture, spread across this stone's surface. It widened; dust began to tumble in and shake away, and the rock--thinning, over the last cycle or so, from inside--at last collapsed.

Fluid spilled out, along with a wet, dark shape--and now revealed beneath the time-layered dust was the brilliant gold of raw citrine. It dripped, liquid pooling beneath, as the dark shape that had fallen out began to stir.

It coughed, first. Coughed again, then sneezed. It gasped, panted. Tiny, golden eyes came open, and as the creature pushed upright, the tiny glint of citrine at its right shoulder proved a mirror to the stone that had just tipped it into the world. As the puppy took his first look around, a faint glow wreathed him, as if to emphasize the gold at eyes and stone.

The puppy came to toddling feet, a tiny stub tail wagging uncertainly, blinking eyes peering around for reassurance that wasn't there, for a family, a mother, a father, siblings. There was only rock and bone, and the tail slowed, drifting down, as faint fear began to grip him.

He didn't know what any of it meant: didn't know where he was, what he was, what it was that he was searching for. But he knew that at once he felt cold, wet, lonely and afraid. After shaking himself out--soaked fluff revealing hints of rust and little white toes, and a white streak down his face--the puppy began to whine.

There were no words in it; it was just the repeated, soft, high-pitched crying of a new-hatched dog, trembling in the cold and looking for his family.

"Are you... okay?"

It was the voice of an angel that greeted Bentley into this world. Should the little pup look behind him, he would see the gently floating body of an angel, too. Simon was here.

Serene cyan eyes regarded the child. Four large wings slowly flapped to keep the serpent afloat. Simon had watched the hatching from afar, having been curiously exploring the cave when the first crack rang. And now he was faced with a little gembound (wasn't I once little, too?) whimpering and crying, and no idea what to do.

Well, of course he had to make him feel better. So Simon, naturally, tried to bring Bentley into a gentle hug. "There, there," he murmured, wrapping his wings around the puppy. But he must've forgotten how freaking HUGE and POWERFUL his wings were, because they immediately whirled right towards poor Ben's face like feathered doom.

He squeezed his eyes shut before the inevitable impact. "Ah!" he gasped out. "I'm so sorry! Little one, are you okay?"

@Bentley

It couldn't have been better framed for comedy, unless maybe it had happened in slow motion: the puppy, ears pulling back, heard the stranger's call. He turned, his cries falling silent, eyes widening as he stumbled on oversized paws to turn and see who was coming. Bentley began to draw back upon sighting something his brain registered as totally alien: something enormous, long, beautiful but very much not whatever his instincts had expected. And just as he'd hesitated, wondering if maybe the stranger might be friendly after all, they battered him about the face with huge and thwapping wings.

He winced, gave a little closed-mouth yelp of surprise, and fell back on his rump. Golden eyes blinked open with fear to find that Simon, however, had backed away enough to speak--and sounded friendly, after all.

For a moment, Bentley's very young inexperience warred with itself: fear versus his innate friendliness; his mind was trying to gauge (based on exactly zero previous encounters) whether Simon might be a friend or foe. His tail gave away his leanings first: it tore out from under his haunches and started a stubby but very rapid back-and-forth sweep across the dirt. Bentley jerked a little, as if to stand, but then dropped back down and gave a little yip, excitement pouring over him. For a second he just sat there, tail wagging, his jaws parting to let a tiny tongue loll upward in a smile at Simon.

Only belatedly did he realize he'd been spoken to; it took him a moment to even register speech as something important. His head cocked to one side, one ear hanging, as he gazed trustingly up at this New Friend.

"'m okay," he agreed, and then scooched closer, a foot or two, tail still cleaning the floor of decades of ancient dust. "M--friend?" he tried, hopeful, and fell back to panting up at Simon.

@Simon II

Simon held his breath for what felt like forever. He was so scared of what he might've done to the poor pupper that he didn't even open his eyes until he heard the unscathed yip! from Bentley. The little boy was alright.

He sighed hard. Simon's face gently returned to a smile as he looked down at the gemlet. "I'm glad you are," he responded as serenely as ever. The next word made him pause. He... didn't exactly have any friends. The closest was that mysterious beast he met in Pegasus, but they had gone back to sleep shortly after their first encounter. The idea of a new friend was as alien to Simon as he was to Bentley. But he could accept it.

"Yes," he said at last, wings flapping slowly at an acceptable distance from the puppy. His dreamy eyes took on a misty look. "I can be your friend. Though, I want to know--" his neck swooped down until he was almost at eye level with Bentley. "Do you have a name, little one? A sound to call yourself by? Mine is Simon. If you can't think of one, that's okay too. It just makes talking to each other easier, that's all."

@Bentley

Bentley's tail proved to be a strong indicator of exactly how confused and excited he was: as Simon spoke, the tail slowed, the pup's head again cocking to one side. Then it sped up, as the new friend/stranger swept down and closer; Bentley fidgeted, as if it were hard for him not to leap up, barking, and slobber puppy kisses on the beaked creature approaching. He didn't, though: politely, he waited, the tail slowing again as he tried to underestand what was being said to him.

Ben didn't understand the majority of it: he caught a few words here and there; "can" and "friend" and "want" and "know" and a bunch more that flitted in and out of his mind. The puppy tried--and failed--to remember everything he could, eyes blinking; his mouth slipped shut as a studious expression overcame him.

After a moment, the pensive gaze was replaced by the empty, cheerful one again: Bentley hopped to his feet, excitement finally overcoming him. He gave two sharp yaps, and danced on four tippy-tapping paws toward Simon, sniffing intently.

The scent of fresh copper washed through his nostrils; Bentley sneezed, and stumbled, and landed on his rump. A heartbeat later he was happily panting upward at his giant Friend again. A name, he remembered. That's okay, too. His tail wagged again; he couldn't piece the second thought quite together with the rest, but it seemed nice! Nice of--Simon!

"Simon!" he barked, the syllables just a little distorted by childish tongue. "Frrrriend," and there was a playful little growl in the R. Head tilted as he considered. "-Ben! Ben! Ben-tally-! Bentley! Ben!" He leapt into another dance, a spin with a few more yaps: hopefully Simon had the patience to deal with puppy energy levels because Bentley seemed ready to run a marathon any second. "My sound--Ben! Arf!"

Then Bentley dropped into a play-bow, staring up at his Simon-Friend expectantly.

Simon felt a little dumb. It was obvious the little pup did not understand all he said. He should've tried something else instead of diving straight into the most confusing words.

That being said, he seemed to get something. "Bentally? Wait-- Bently, is it? That is very pretty," Simon said, slowing down his words in the hope he would understand better. An idea popped into his head. "Oh! I know something fun."

He tried to summon a pumpkin-- something fun he learned, which would be entertaining to pass between them. But somehow, somehow, he messed up. Simon became suddenly aware of how wet and disgusting the inside of a pumpkin is as one suddenly poofed into existence around his head. Wings wheeled back in surprise as he tried to pull the devious gourd off. "Mmmh-- mmmhh!"

The dice gods really hate snakes today, it seems.

@Bentley

Bentley waited with fascination to see what this new "fun" would be--and Simon II didn't disappoint! The globe of fleshy orange that abruptly appeared around his new friend's head was hilarious, and Bentley broke into loud peals of childish laughter.

Paws tapped on stone as he broke into a bouncing dance around the far larger Gembound, light shining from every strand of fur along his coat as if in celebration. "Mppph! Hahaha!" he cried, laughing along, imitating his buddy. He tried to leap up, to poke the pumpkin with his snout but Simon was far too tall. The puppy fell back with an "Omph-" against the floor, but was up a moment later with the resilience of a toddler, jumping up and down again.

When stuck inside a pumpkin, there were probably more helpful Gembound to have around than a freshly-hatched dog: because Bentley was having the time of his life.

@Simon II