This is part 1 of a series of threads in which Chaos-Two is searching for potential gardeners for the Chaos Forge.

Chaos-Two didn't have much with them as they set out on their journey. There was a sling over their back made from a deer skin with the legs tied together to carry some supplies they were bringing. Fruits that would last for more than a day or so and their music box. They would prefer to keep walking, at least for their first journey through the caves, so they'd keep hunting to a minimum. Aside from that, they only had the trinkets tied in their quills and their spear.

"Sentinel?", they called out, their hooves clicking on the floor of the tunnel as they walked, "I wish to speak with you."

The Sentinel ought to know some things about the caves even they did not know, seeing as for a good while the gembound had sought out to learn as much as possible in the allotted time given by Master Vargas.

@The Sentinel

The Sentinel was standing a little ways into Tunnel G, staring out aimlessly (or so it seemed) toward Pegasus. In reality, he was not seeing the tunnel at all: it had vanished, one again plunging his vision into nothing, into the empty void, leeched of color and substance and drifting with imaginary dust.

He waited, patiently, for it to clear: the Void was as much a part of him as he, it, and he believed that his shifting between them was perfectly natural. Chaos-Two's voice broke into it, it seemed, from a distance: a far echo of words half-muffled by the immense space that must--somehow--bridge the gap between them.

He turned his head.

The void cleared.

V-Chaos-Two was approaching, prepared as if for travel; skins, what smelled vaguely of food. It was hard to see, from here; it was wrapped, in any case. The Sentinel's senses sharpened, hand tightening faintly--imperceptibly--around the haft of the whispering halberd he held so stiffly upright (leaning on it, just a little, not made for bipedal walking as well as Chaos-Two had been). He studied it: was it allowed to leave? Would Vargas come soon, demanding to know where it had gone? Would Chaos-Two strike out at him now, try to destroy the evidence?

These were idle considerations, held as vague possibilities in the back of his mind. He acted on none of them; more likely, it was simply departing somewhere--but what did it wish to speak to him of?

"I am... here," he rasped, turning to face the hybrid more directly. His voice was more a rattling wheeze than real words. "It may... speak."

@V-Chaos-Two

Chaos-Two approached, stopping a polite distance away to speak, "I am going on a journey, a task assigned to me by Master Vargas. I am searching for someone who has knowledge of plants and how to care for them, so that they can tend to a medicinal garden for me. Is there anyone who you may know of? Anyone you happened to have met while traveling outside of Draco?"

They leaned more heavily than the Sentinel, a hip cocked in a way that suggested habit rather than discomfort. A lingering stance from before Master Vargas had corrected his mistakes.

Chaos-Two looked upon the Sentinel with fondness, remembering a small pup barely able to carry the halberd that he now carried with ease. It was easy to remember such while not knowing what the Sentinel had gotten up to since he'd grown up, and so Chaos-Two pushed that aside. Instead of fondness, there was now a lingering sense of melancholy.

@The Sentinel

Sentinel listened, his attention wholly on Chaos-Two's words. He felt no emotional connection to the hybrid--was wholly unaware, in fact, of the lingering wistfulness it felt toward him in turn. "Plants." That struck a chord, and it was only a brief jaunt through his own memories that drew back the needed recollection.

The free clawed hand strayed up to the Oil-stained Onyx at his chest, and held it. "The Sentinel's stone was held by a black dog. The children of the Dog exist. There is one of them in the Room of Bones. It shares its stone. Its purpose is: healer. It mends wounds. But it grows the plants." For a moment, it almost seemed as though he were done speaking--but then he began to rattle off a slow and rasping list. "It can create bright light. It can create rain. It can flee," he added, as if these were somehow important pieces of information. The free hand dropped from his stone, taking its place beside his other along his halberd shaft; blue eyes regarded Chaos-Two, unblinking.

"It is the feathered dog. It is among the plants, in the room of bones." He paused, pondering. Hadn't he said that? Had he already said that? -Did it matter?

Ahh, well. One more piece of information, then:

"It is very old. And it knows many things about the caves." Let Chaos-Two make of that what it would.

It was strange, in retrospect; Oliver had wanted to visit him, but had never turned up, here. Maybe he did not know the way. The Sentinel had not even thought of him, in all this time. "Should you find the feathered dog," he said, slowly, "inform it where it may find the Sentinel." He studied Chaos-Two, a moment, and then looked off down the tunnel again.

@V-Chaos-Two

Chaos-Two took in this information, wrapping their head around it and picking out the three details that were most important.

Canis. Garden. Black feathered dog.

"Thank you, Sentinel," they said, pulling their back further up their shoulder before staring at the other, mystified at his request.

Did he make a friend, somehow? Chaos-Two had long doubted that the Sentinel would ever feel much more than a monotone sort of apathy, caring only for the tasks he'd been given. It seems yet again they were judging a book by its cover.

"I will tell them," they promised, "I hope you have a good day."

And with that the Valkhound was off, headed to search for this feathered dog that the Onyx spoke of. They wondered if they were nice, if they'd agree to coming with them to assist in their new garden. They hoped so.

Exit Chaos-Two
@The Sentinel for vis

The Sentinel did not respond--there was no need--instead simply continuing his silent stare down the tunnel. When V-Chaos-Two passed through his line of sight, and down through his gaze and back out of it again, he watched in empty indifference.

Not a threat, then. Noted, ticked off, and filed away: no longer of concern, for now.

exit the Sentinel