It was the back at the place in the forest, with the quaint little pond it had found with The Zoisite after the fight with- after THAT fight. It had been here several times since, but most of them brief.

Mostly, to deposit stones.

They were buried just deep enough so it knew they wouldn't be disturbed. Four in total. A piece of golden metallic gemstone that resemble some sort of strange starfish. A craggy chunk of murky smokey quartz. A smooth mossy green stone, and a sharp point of a unique black opal.

The former two it had killed harvested itself.

It had thought about this for some time. A LONG time. Ever since it'd gotten the right to do so. And today, it unearthed it's collection of life, scooping out dirt with it's massive claws.

It would carefully grab the smokey quartz in it's teeth. The first. Other than those pitiful cave deer and rabbits. It'd drop the stone so it was cradled in its flippers. It was already smeared with oil.

It took a deep breath. It wasn't sure what to do- except, innately, it DID know. It would return what it had taken. A spark.

Please Live.

It didn't.

It didn't work.

The stone had cracked in two, too feeble for the spark of life it had tried to shove into it. Its guts hurt. Maybe it should hunt.

It didn't hunt, or eat. It didn't look at any of the other stones, either. It buried the fully dead quartz where it had just been unburied. And then it paced uselessly. It felt drained in a raw way it recognized and wouldn't acknowledge it had recognized. It was just the drain of magic. It needed time to recover to start again.

It didn't know how long it took before it got the courage to try again. It was the Golden Pallasite this time. This one had asked for it, at least. He had known what he was getting into. At the very least, it knew that.

This time, it used one of it's feet to nudge The Pallasite away from the other stones. It would stare, getting ready to do what it had done before. But this time it would work. It had been strong before, it should still be strong now.

Please be strong.

It worked.

Thankfully, it had worked.

Next, it regarded the black opal. Curious hexagonal patterns glittered in what little orb-light filtered through the trees. It.. didn't have as 'personal' of a relationship with this stone. It had simply been there, watching like so many others, when they had died. The opal's killer had been it's... understudy? Not a replacement, Baokrish had been the one to go, not The Labradorite.

Sometimes it wondered where Vargas's commissions went.

It probably wasn't in it's own interest to find out.

It tried to remember what The Opal itself had looked like... Something like a yellow bumblebug with a humanoid spliced inside it. It.. was reminiscent of many it knew.

The Selenite's humanoid elements- although stuck partially in an insect.

The Zoisite's chitin and unique perspective.

Khavur's two heads...

Maybe this would be better than all of them. Maybe the opal had already died once for a reason.

Maybe.

This stone, thankfully, took to rebirth as quick as the previous stone had. That poor, poor smoky quartz.

It had killed a truly fragile creature.

It turned to the last stone. Completely unfamiliar. A mossy green pebble as smooth as a river rock. The stone, infact, had been found in a river, where currents had uncovered a massive skeleton of twin-headed horned creature- or maybe two similar looking creatures who had died whilst tangled in combat. Even without the ability to sense magic, the stone had seemed incredibly alive, and incredibly... important.

It hesitated- this was the one stone which it had no idea what would come out, other than some stray bones it only half-remembered. Surely, more numbers to the forge would not be a bad thing, even if said design is less-than-ideal?

It took a deep breath, and plunged it's magic into the final stone.

Be Good.

The final spark felt weak- it WAS very drained at this point- but the stone took root in the ground regardless. It stared at all three growing stones with a sense of... something. It should feel something- and it most certainly did- but caves be damned if it could put that feeling into words.

No matter. It had been productive. And it's spawn, in turn, would be productive. And they would all thrive.

For now, though, it needed rest. So it curled around each of it's newly formed chrysalises, and it would rest.

Exit Thread