Limits made little sense within the larger concept of reality.
Why was there a limit to anything? And, as limits existed…who was to demand that a certain thing had a certain limit. Was that limit malleable? Was it able to increase…or decrease? Who had the power to change it, if it was changeable? Why was something a certain height, weight, width, etc.? Why was I personally limited? I could not fly higher than the stone archway allowed. I could not eat endlessly, even when my hunger refused to dissipate each week. I could not remain awake for all hours, nor remain asleep. I had little control of my life in general. There was so very little I had yet to understand and so little I could change.


Such thoughts distracted me as I lazily drifted through the semi-darkness of the cave. The lighting was blueish, something that seemed rather new. Perhaps not. I couldn’t remember traveling this cave before. My goal was to explore. I hadn’t truly encountered too many others here. I’d seen a few living beings, but had yet to come close to one. I figured out how to move by quietly watching other winged folk…and practicing…a lot. I quickly learned that food and water were necessary for sustaining life, and found out various methods to obtain such things. In fact, I should probably hunt sometime soon. Maybe this expedition would provide me with some opportunities.


As my journey continued, a realization approached me. A strange mist was rushing from my beak. It had no smell, in fact…disappeared as I attempted to catch the odor. I spun, flipped, zig-zagged, all in attempts to catch this strange occurance’s scent. Eventually, I concluded that such mist only occurred as I exhaled. Thus, it must be my own breath that created the mist. I connected this to the new chill that was about me. This tunnel was cold. Here, I was colder than I’d ever felt before, in fact. I wasn’t a fan of the sensation. A part of me wished to turn around, return to the warm known…but my thirst for exploration was stronger.


I landed lightly upon an outcropping of stone, wrapping my frame in my thicker feathers for a moment. I allowed my gaze to explore my surroundings in more detail as I warmed myself somewhat. I’d continue on in a few moments. Just…just needed to retain some body heat. Here again I was encountering something I couldn’t control. Temperature. I could not, it seems, keep my body a certain temperature with ease. The environment held more sway upon my personal comfort than I approved of. Truly, this was ridiculous. How was a bird to survive in this place if they couldn’t even keep themselves warm? Maybe I just needed to learn another technique, another strategy. Perhaps I would encounter another bird around these parts. They might do something…something that kept them warmer.


As such a thought crossed my mind, my tendons coiled and I flung myself forward into the air once more. Always more quests. I enjoyed challenges.

The owl was nearly invisible, curled as he was against the tunnel wall--a dark lump, like all the other dark lumps, only this one was soft feathers and not rough stone.

He was listening--as he often did, these days--to the crackle of flames within Polaris, the deep bass breathing of the dragon within. An owl's hearing was exquisitely sensitive, and Dark--eager to prove himself to Bevy as useful as a scout--was using this sense to carefully keep tabs on Raheerah.

The cold got to him, sometimes; even as a fluff of feathers, comfortable in ice or snow, there was something unnatural about this place. But he ignored it as best he could, and remained there--the perfect spy--silent and motionless out of sight around the tunnel bend, simply listening to the sounds as they came to him.

But what was this?

Another sound reached him, the fluttering whisk of feathers, of beating wings pumping the chilled air. It didn't sound like straight flight, either; something was tumbling, jerking as if faltering. Was it injured? Ill? It sounded too large to be Bevy, that much was for sure.

Was it friend, or foe? For the briefest instant Dark hesitated. He had learned that there were enemies in the caves, just as much as friends. But a split second later he'd pushed the thought aside; he couldn't let a stranger die due to his own fear. He called out, instead, his voice a soft, melodic hoot.

"Don't go toward the fire," he warned. "There is a monster in there."

Then he fell silent, staring unseeing with green stone eyes toward the sound of flight, wondering if the stranger truly was a friend--or a foe that Dark had just exposed himself to.

________________

@Alaric

What was it within my breath that created such a strange mist before me?
Perhaps it was foolish of me to think deeper and examine something even further than my conclusion had provided, but curiosity was forever about me. Obviously, breath equaled mist. But what was it within the mist? Breath in it of itself did not create such mist. So it was the cold, yes. But what did the temperature do to my breath? Should I be more concerned on what the temperature could do to my entire frame? Perhaps…perhaps the cold was slowly solidifying my breath…and therefore could solidify my body, eventually. I could believe that, with the child that danced above my talons. Terrifying, truly. Perhaps my venture should be pushed faster. I noticed the harder I pushed my muscles, the warmer I felt. Hmm, perhaps…perhaps this was a new strategy? Work harder, keep myself warmer? Interesting.

A sound then struck me as if I’d run straight into a stone wall. Truly, I staggered in my flight, nearly falling straight out of the air. I landed, rather ungracefully, my eyes searching desperately for the source of the words I had heard. Though…had I heard them? There was no obvious creature here…was I hearing voices? Was the cave itself speaking? Could stone voice thoughts? Did a rock think? I tapped the stone beneath me curiously as I continued my search for something…breathing. And, ah…what was that? It looked fluffy. Blackish, whiteish…fluffy. Feathers? Bird. Oh, a bird was speaking to me? it made most sense to me to connect the sound to the bird like creature out in the distance. Perhaps my assumption was incorrect, but I’d find out soon if I was right…maybe.

Now, as for his words. Or…or her words? I guess I didn’t really know yet what those differences were. No matter. The words. Fire? There was fire near here? And the fire meant a monster? Well certainly a warning. But, why warn me? Why did this creature care about my wellbeing? Or did he? Was he perhaps more interested in protecting something and preventing my entrance? Supplies maybe…water, food, warmth…he had mentioned fire. Wait…I bet he was expecting some kind of response from me. Most interactions I’d witnessed involved both parties speaking, one after the other. But what was I to say? Did I need to converse with this other? I supposed I wanted more knowledge…and there was a chance this creature had such knowledge. But what if he was some kind of trickster? I’d seen some of those…what were they called? Li…liars? Yes, that’s it. Would I be able to tell the difference? Yeah…yes. I think I could.

“Monster? Explain? Who are you? I see feathers…what are you? Are you staying warm? How? Is it warmer over there? Where is the fire? Will the cold solidify my body?”

Dark continued to stare unseeing, his two-foot-tall body huddled against the wall until it appeared only half so big. His mind reeled a little at the sudden onslaught of questions, and he blinked large gem eyes as he tried to process them, while remaining tensed for a potential attack.

"Stay quiet, or it might hear," Dark first warned, sparing a glance toward Polaris that was, in actuality, him turning his facial discs toward the cave to listen. But there was nothing, no claws on crystal, no scraping of scales on stone, and so he turned back to the newcomer. "My name is Dark. I'm an owl, and a scout," he explained in his soft and lilting voice. "There was a fight in a cave below awhile ago. A lot of days ago. A monster broke through from underneath and it is in there now, and if you go in it might eat you, or burn you. The fire's in there," he added.

Then he clicked his beak, blinking as he thought over the stranger's other questions. Odd ones, those. Was it only trying to distract him, so that it could attack? He could hear claws on the stone, and no more wingbeats, and its voice came from down below, so it was landed, at least.

"I am cold," he affirmed after a long pause, quiet. "I have thick feathers, but it's still cold. I think it's some kind of magic--but it won't turn you to ice, I think. There's ice in other tunnels. I don't think it's warmer here? You can come see. If you aren't going to bite me," he added, with a sort of childlike bluntness.

His words were strangely simple, as if he were younger than he appeared, yet his voice was mature. His manner of speaking was naive, gently innocent. And his invitation was genuine, though whether the stranger would take it as such, only time would tell.

"What's your name?" he asked at last.

________________

@Alaric

Maybe I was crazy?
Perhaps I had yet to look close enough at the other bird, but I think…the other had bright green eyes. I hadn’t seen any other have such eyes. Was that a natural color? I guess I just didn’t know enough yet about other creatures to make any assumptions. Indeed, the other’s eyes were one of the last things I should be thinking about. So much more was occurring. Knowledge was being transferred, as I had hoped. Maybe this interaction thing wasn’t so bad? I could get more information the more I questioned perhaps?

Alright, so must remain quiet or I’d create a dangerous situation. I understood that concept. Silence had saved my life a many of times. His name was Dark…strange name…and his species was oww? No, there was a la sound. I’d think on that later. Scout? What did scout mean? Scouting? Searching? Was he a searcher? What was he searching for? And if he was searching, why stay stationary? Was it because of his eyes? Maybe he couldn’t see very well…but then why was he searching? Maybe he was searching for better sight? That would make sense. Wait, the monster. A fight? Who was fighting? And this thing came out of the ground? That seemed rather weird. Especially as fire was involved. Oh, oh, the oww was cold as well. So it wasn’t just me. Oh? He was willing to let me check to see if his wall of stone was warmer than the open air?

Just as he oww asked me my name, my body flung once more into the open air. I did not allow myself to suspend long before landing again. My perch was just next to the other…and yes. Yes this was warmer.

“I am…Alaric.”

My words were murmured as I explored the ridge of stone curiously, stepping further from the other…and then closer, searching for the source of the radiating heat. It took longer than it should have, but I realized it was the other bird that was warm. Without truly thinking about it, I shifted to dive within the other’s feathers, eagerly trying to steal the other’s warmth.

“You are so warm…and your eyes are strange. Can you see well? Is that what you’re searching for?”

@Dark

Dark startled as the bird flew, and even more as it nestled against him. He was surprised--Bevy was his closest friend or, perhaps, she'd be better described as family--but she never touched, not with the toxins coating her feathers. Tactile interaction, then, was fairly new to him, and he wasn't sure how to handle it. He compromised by doing nothing, by simply standing there somewhat stiffly as the other bird curled into him.

"I can't see at all," he explained quietly. He paused, head pulled well back so that he could "stare" instinctively down, even though he couldn't see. "...I'm listening. If the monster moves, it might come through the tunnel back to Pisces. That's where I live, and that's where the group I'm with lives," he tried to explain, struggling a little with putting the concept into words. "So if I hear it coming, or doing anything really, I will fly back and let my friends know. ...What are you doing here?" he asked in return.

It was the polite thing to say, he felt--that, and he was genuinely curious. Travellers through the tunnels were rare, and strangers rarer still; he'd never heard this bird's voice, before, and he wondered what Alaric was like. He fluffed out his feathers a little as he awaited a response, making his little heat-bubble wider and more welcoming, allowing the other bird some of his warmth.

________________

@Alaric

One day, cycles from now, I’d reflect on this moment in my life and realize how ridiculously naive I was.
Truly, Dark was a stranger. All others were strangers, really. I’d known him for approximately four minutes. What if he wanted to kill me? What if this was a trap? However, four minutes was longer than I’d known anyone else before…and he was giving me knowledge. I thirsted for knowledge. Surely a giver of wisdom wasn’t someone with evil intentions. And he didn’t seem like he was lying. I didn’t hear the beats of his heart accelerate above normal frequencies…and especially as his warmth pulled me so very close to his frame, I could thoroughly detect any odor of adrenaline…but so far I sensed none. There was a few odors I didn’t understand, however. Something musky, something salty…something sweet? He was full of scents of different. Perhaps it was the odors of his home…and of him himself. I’d noticed each prey animal I’d caught had a slightly different quality…each affecting my sense slightly differently.

Distractions. It seemed that during interactions with others I was more easily distracted. And yet, was that true? Perhaps I was always so strange with my tangents of the mind but never noticed as no one else interrupted such thoughts before? That seemed possible, especially as I sensed no real change in my normal character. But his words again were important. He was blind. But was on a mission? So he was to warn his friends if the monster was going to endanger them…but why would they send their blind friend to watch for the monster? That seemed illogical. Then again, the oww certainly noticed my approach, and I hadn’t been making noise. Well, perhaps some…but not a lot, certainly. So, maybe he was the best to send? His hearing was better than most? That’d be interesting. What if his hearing was better…because he couldn’t see anything? But, why would one sense improve just because another was impaired? Beyond compensating…why would it be different? Could he change his own senses…the limits…increase his hearing, as his sight was decreased? Did he have that level of power?

Distracted again. I’d been asked a question. As the other shifted, offering more of his heat, a sigh escaped me without realization.

“I’m exploring. Never been through this cave before. Never been many places before, really. Just learning. Practicing skills.”

Perhaps I shouldn’t be so open with the other. I shouldn’t speak of my skill level…he seemed mildly more stronger than I, perhaps he was waiting for the opportunity to take me down? Maybe…maybe I should test him? Without thinking it through, I shifted my frame to touch a talon to his side. Not a rough or violent gesture, but a curious jab none the less.

“Are you going to eat me?”

@Dark

Dark had had a life of several months, and in it he had, in turns, felt frightened, curious, content, and, at least toward Bevy, affectionate in the way of a child toward his mother. He'd never, however, felt truly amused.

He'd been waiting, worried, for an attack from the stranger, and though he could now feel that it was perhaps slightly smaller than him, the idea that he would eat it shocked him into doing something new: into laughing. His laughter was a soft and tinkling hoot, quiet and musical, and as he laughed he ruffled his soft feathers out just a little.

"No," he answered quietly, after a long moment. He could feel the talon at his side and he shifted, raising his own powerfully-taloned foot, two-by-two-toed, to try and gently grasp the goshawk's foot as if in greeting. He then let go, quietly placing his foot back down.

"I eat the little things, the ones that run on the ground, in the cracks. The things that squeak. I have to get close and jump, or fly by sound, but that's okay. I can hear them from very far away. I know a good place to practice flying, once you're good? It's hard, but there's wind to practice with."

________________

@Alaric

What…what did I do?
Apparently the combination of my words and actions had created a thoroughly bizarre thing to occur. A sound I’d never heard before was fluttering about this oww’s throat. It didn’t seem…angry. The sound was just strange to me. I’d never heard something like it before. Honestly, it was rather unsettling to hear as the throaty hoots echoed in the cave. Especially because it wasn’t angry. I knew what frustration, anger, irritation, fury, hunger, and ferocity all sounded like…but this was…a cackle? Soft, but loud. Airy, but toned. Clearly he was expressing some kind of emotional response to me but I just simply had no idea what it was.

Perhaps this was what he did before he attacked something? Was this the sound of a pounce? That didn’t seem right. My feathers were visibly ruffled as the depth of my confusion embedded in my mind. I didn’t know if I was to be afraid, angry, or relaxed. So I was none, but all.

And then the other spoke. Finally. Oddly, his tone assuaged my more unfriendly feelings. No he wasn’t going to eat me, and I believed him. Why I believed me was for no other reason than he didn’t seem to me like he was lying. And then the other did something I was not expecting. He literally gripped my raised talons with his own, then released them. I looked at him, at his talons, then at my own foot. What in this cave…he…why? My skull tilted slightly and my brain seemed to short circuit for just a moment. Too much input for me in one moment.

By the time I came back to myself Dark had already started talking. Things that squeak? Oh, oh he must hunt them. Yeah, like I did. Okay, so we hunted similar things. Though, how could he hunt without sight? Was his hearing sincerely that good? And flying. He wanted to help me to learn? Why would he want to help me? Me? No one in this entire place had ever offered nor seemed to have any desire to do so. In fact, I sensed most would rather eat me. A new sensation was touching me, but I had no idea what it meant.

I turned my gaze away from the oww, looking over the desolate cave for a moment. Who would have guessed so much information and new things could occur with just encountering one creature? What…what if this kind of thing happened with every encounter…but I had yet to be brave enough to find out until now? Yet, some seemed more dangerous and less helpful. Was this a truth? Aye, he’d mentioned protecting his friends from the monster…thus the monster couldn’t be very nice. But, friends. So there were at least others like him. Maybe they all had different knowledge they wanted to share? But…maybe not. Maybe he was the only one like himself. Even so, I was sure at this point he could teach me more than what he’d already. Obviously every moment was full of information.

I sidestepped, pressing my frame back up against the other in attempts to steal back the warmth. Such a motion also enhanced that same strange feeling I had noticed a bit earlier…I’d think on it later.

“I’d like to go to this place. And I’d like to learn more. I’ll help hunt.”

My voice was smaller than I’d expected, with a tenuous tone in it I’d yet to hear myself make before. I wasn’t exactly afraid of his answer…no, afraid wasn’t the right term to describe it. So many new things, maybe I’d explode with much more?

@Dark

Dark listened, pondering about this feathered stranger's faintly nervous demeanor--he could be wrong, but the other bird felt a little twitchy. Alaric was pressing oddly close to Dark, and he was still not sure if he liked this or not. It was too close, but it was warm, at least, in the unnatural chill of the tunnel.

He wasn't on official scouting duty at the moment--if anything, he was spending his free time continuing to safeguard Pisces and Maji Walezi. So he didn't feel particularly guilty when he turned, taking a few hops back down the tunnel.

"Long flight. Stick close. I might have to stop sometimes, to listen. I fly by sound, and it's far," he explained.

The dragon would likely not leave Polaris--maybe not ever. He'd not heard it even stir for some time, so for now, he felt that Pisces would be safe. And anyway, it was important to make new friends--and to help strangers, where it was needed. If this bird was practically falling out of the air while it flew (Dark didn't know that the goshawk had been tumbling deliberately) then perhaps he needed help.

When the Great Horned Owl took flight, it was in startling silence, a soft, deep whoomph of feathers and then utterly nothing, as if the beating of his wings were nonexistent. He began to work his way down the tunnel, through the caves toward Monoceros, listening and pausing now and again to make sure that Alaric stayed close behind.

________________

(( ooc -- @Alaric, exit Dark ))