A few laughing huffs come from Spinnaker's beak as Mossie leaps into the water, splashing in the surf. How he wants to join her, but he has an image to uphold.

...What image? Enh, he'll figure it out.

"Out of a stone ya say? Guess that makes two o' us. Here I was, tumblin' out onto the beach. But I guess you guys probably already saw that."

A few hops closer, maybe he shouldn't get so close - no, it's fine. "I'm.. I'm... A bird? Yes, a cormorant. But I think I'd like to be a seaman. Look at all that water. Seems nice, no?"

@Mossie

"I'm Mossie!" She yowls as she darts about, finally succumbing to the sea's temptations and thoroughly splashing herself. "I am inevitable! I defy categorization! I came out of a stone too! I'm a Golden Cat!"

She turns to the leviathan. "Hmm, stranger, you seem upset, and I know this because I am Old," she squeaks. She digs out some rocks with particularly punchable faces and drags them out of the surf, pushing them with not a small bit of effort towards the creature before scurrying back, presenting her prize with a very pleased expression on her face. "Would you like to kill some more rocks?"
@Manticore

A bird-cormorant, and a cat.

Hmm.

Neither of those were words he knew, though admittedly he didn't know all that many, yet. The smaller Gembounds' language was a tad complex. He shook himself again, grunting. "I am not a bird." But I know what I am. The thought was sudden, followed by a tentative word: Valkhound.

...But what did that mean?

He didn't have much time to ponder. Rocks were being presented to him. The moment had passed, really; he eyed them with only puzzlement. But then he considered the offer.

Did he want to destr-

"YES."

He glared down at the pebbles, and--thankfully--once Mossie was out of the way, inhaled.

Black flames licked at the corners of his jaws as they snapped open; a torrent of this fire blasted out to engulf the pebbles. It swirled around them, blackening the stones, but it wasn't hot. It was cold, it gave off no warmth, and although one or two stones showed little cracks as the fire faded, they definitely weren't destroyed.

Still-... he felt better for it.

He thwapped back down onto his haunches in the gravel, mouth snapping shut, a sigh of black smoke pluming up from flared (and glowing) nostrils. "Good," he rumbled in approval.

@Spinnaker

"So we all came from a stone. That makes us one in the same, then, even if our friend here isn't a bird." The thought is comforting - that despite everything, they all were meant to be here. "We are all here, so let's make the most o' it."

Spinnaker decides to set himself down next to Mossie, sitting beside her after scampers away from Manticore. Another pebble is grabbed by him, and tossed into the offered pile right as they all are bathed in black flame.

He jumps a little, squawking in surprise. "Wow, you're a proper dragon there, mate. Quite the show!"

@Mossie

"Wooahhhhhhhh," Mossie breathed, eyes shining with awe. "That is quite possibly the coolest goddamn thing I have ever seen in my very short life! I love destruction!"

She clapped her soft fluffy pawpads together. With the power of fire in one BFF and the power of bird in the other, she'd be unstoppable!

"Hmm. I don't know what we're supposed to do after we're born," Mossie speculated aloud. "Maybe we could go swimming! D'ya think there'd be things to destroy in the water? I hope so. I love water." Unbidden, the image of a weird scaly thing with a too-smooth face, no limbs, and a tail that was also its body came to mind, but Mossie did not have the language to describe this vision.
@Manticore

Satisfaction still lay warm in his gut as he listened to the two little ones speak. There were some words he didn't know, but 'dragon' prompted some spark of recognition, and he thought about it.

Valkhound. Dragon. Something else-? But-... he had another thing, too. A... name.

"Manticore," he said at last, with a catlike flick of his spiny tail-tip. "I am... Manticore. Name," he clarified, with another shake of his spiky 'mane' and a rumble.

He still hadn't made much of a judgment call about his new companions, but then, he had very little context from which to draw. This was just, as they say, his life now.

Spinnaker had spoken of coming from stones, and Mossie, destruction and swimming. Manticore could empathize with loving destruction--he was pretty sure he did, too. But swimming-? He glanced over his shoulder. He had just, his logic went, come from there. Why go back? But-...

Why not, either?

He shrugged his shoulders and pushed up, rolling them; then he turned, pacing a somewhat awkward circle to face the sea again. (His turning radius, it seemed, was not all that good.) "I can swim," he confirmed. If that was what they wanted--as a group--then he supposed he could join in. He waded ankle-deep, then turned, looking over his shoulder to the other two in that timeless gesture: 'are you coming?'

@Spinnaker

Spinnaker thinks a little. "What we're supposed to do... I'm not sure. We'll find it out."

A turn to the Valkhound, and he bobs his head. "Manticore. I can remember that. I didn't tell you my name... It's Spinnaker. But call me what you want." he offers.

Seem's we're swimming, he thinks, hopping after Manticore towards the water. One last large jump, and Spinnaker glides the last several feet, landing in the water to bob along with the waves. He sits there for a good moment, looking back up to Manticore for some sort of approval.

@Mossie

"I'm Mossie," she announced, puffing out her chest. "Be warned, I may forget your name at any given moment." She was glad she'd gotten over the whole 'figuring out who you are and what you're doing' stage already--it was exhausting just watching them trying to figure things out.

Guess that was just one of the perks of being The Oldest Cool Person.

She followed the others deep into the water, kicking her stubby little legs. She knows deep in her bones that her kind is not supposed to enjoy swimming, and yet she does. She wonders what else is different about her.

"Sooo..." Mossie begins, seized by some compulsive urge to fill the silence, "swimming. Destruction. Those are things we do. Do you think there are...others? Others like us? Others born from stones that like to swim and explode things?"
@Manticore

Spinnaker. Mossie.

That Chaos part of his mind was immediately annoyed that he had to remember things (ugh), but at least Mossie also liked to--as she said--"explode things."

That was... good, he supposed.

Had he seen Spinnaker's glide he might have realized that his wings had a similar purpose but for now, he hadn't really taken note of them. His back had been turned to the cormorant's glide. He turned, paddling back toward the pair, and noted that Spinnaker--like himself--sort of floated along the top like a duck.

Or... well, like a cormorant.

Manticore was finding that a suitable method of locomotion, really: just... floating. It took very little effort, just light kicks now and then to keep himself up, and upright. He paddled toward Spinnaker, not really aware that he might displace a few little waves; he didn't really know how all that worked, yet. Instead he paddled toward and around him, studying the way he sat in the water--and yes, there was approval there.

He rumbled, a thoughtful sound, and looked to Mossie, his attention shifting. "Why will you... forget?" Was there something wrong with her?

As for there being others--Manticore didn't know, but he had some sudden surge that yes, there must be others. Others who liked Chaos; others he should seek out. The concept that other Valkhounds roamed this world was there, in his mind, but faint and distant, and he didn't know where to start. "Maybe... they like exploding things. But not swimming," he reasoned, because no instinct told him anything about those others liking swimming.

@Spinnaker

"Then I'll just hafta remember for you!" Spinnaker pokes back at Mossie. He watches as Mossie swims out after them, and he would smile if his beak allowed it.

He bobs in the water, and bobs even more when Manticore sends ripples as he approaches. Spinnaker doesn't really seem to notice, thinking. "Well, there's no way to know until we find out, you know."

@Mossie