V-CORUNDUM-ONE

Someone, somewhere, in the Chaos Forge should've made a sign. Neon, all in capital letters and flashing a warning: UNSUPERVISED CHILD AHEAD. In any normal world, "unsupervised child" would just be a danger to the child. Maybe they'd drink something stupid, or fall and hurt themselves, or find the fascinating temptation something too hot to touch--and touch it. But in this world, the children were so often monsters, and this fluffy butterball of a Valkhound hybrid was happily destroying rocks.

That was bad for her, sure. Undoubtedly she would damage a baby's fragile teeth. It was also bad for the rocks, given that they were part of the habitations that some of the others had so carefully constructed against the rear walls of the cave.

Not only did she not know that, she also didn't care. She was sprawled out, orb-cradling tail sweeping the rock floor from side to side in a contented sway, eyes staring off at nothing as a grinning maw cracked a few more pebbles from a stone she'd pulled from the wall.

@Rue

Though, to be fair, there probably also should've been an UNSUPERVISED CHILD sign made when Rue hatched, but it seems like no one in the Chaos Forge cared, or learned aboutjust how much chaotic spawn could be menaces. Sure, Rue had calmed down slightly with age, but only slightly.

They were lying in a depression in the stone floor, gnawing on an oil-slicked bone. Rue's "home" wasn't more than a designated sleeping spot, compared to some of the other more elaborate constructions. So while they aren't exactly bothered by the Corundum's rampage, they're far more interested in who this new tiny terror is.

Blinking toxic green eyes, Rue tilts there head. "Who are you? Newcomers to the ranks?" they ask, watching pebbles get ground to sand at dust. Trying to resist the urge to join the little valkfox in rock-shattering mayhem, they continue, "Do you have a designation?"

@V-Corundum-One

V-CORUNDUM-ONE

A NEW FRIEND.

She'd have yelled something of the sort, but she didn't quite have the vocabulary for it and anyway, her mouth was full of rocks.

Corundum scrambled upright at the voice, excited, and spent a confused moment both scrabbling for balance (having stood up way too fast and almost fallen), and spitting out shards of sharp stone. There was a moment of "pthahs" as she wrinkled up her muzzle and managed to dump the rest of the pieces on the ground, and then she half-toddled, half-ran toward Rue. She looked VERY interested in this new friend, nothing but happy to see them.

"I AM A BABY," she informed Rue, overly loudly, because that's what she'd overheard herself being called. She wasn't entirely sure what it meant, but she sounded very proud of it. But--'designation?'

She paused, grinning widely with lolling tongue and utterly blank eyes, as she tried to remember what this meant and if she had one.

"V-Corundum-One! -Are you Cor... Co-undum, too?" she managed, half-stammering the words after her initial, dutiful (and obviously memorized) repetition. She hadn't had much chance to speak, just yet, so this was all a little new to her. But she seemed to be taking it with enthusiasm.

@Rue

They snicker in amusement as Corundum stumbles and spits out gravel. They like this one already. They drop the bone from their mouth as she ambles over. "A baby," they echo, a toothy grin on their face. Their voice is one of an elder sibling or friend, teasing but lighthearted.

They do their best to commit the little one's name to memory. Corundum. It's a bit of a mouthful, but Vargas was never good at giving names that got to the point in a reasonable time frame. "Not corundum. My given designation is V-Kornerupine-One, but I have earned my name. You can call me Rue." they explain, head tilted sideways.

They hope the little one will use their name. They worked very hard to earn it.

Looking down at the bone they'd been previously occupied with, they realize it was probably a far better chew toy for the half-valk then actual rocks. With a flick, they toss the (slightly oily) bone towards Corundum. "That's better than the cave walls. Not as sharp." Though if she cared was another thing.

@V-Corundum-One

V-CORUNDUM-ONE

Eyes widened at this--this amazing, astonishing, oh-so-generous gift, greater than anything Corundum had ever SEEN before. She pounced on the bone at once, all her eyes wide, a gigantic grin pulling her lips right toward her massive ears.

Oh, but her manners-! Either someone, somewhere, had taught her "thank you," or instinct provided. She mangled it, but her blurted-around-a-bone "'Anks!" was clear enough. And if it weren't, the gratitude that shone out of her eyes as she gazed now at Rue--her new best friend for life, having now earned her complete and total loyalty and trust--would be.

In a bizarre twist of biology, her tail--far too large for this sort of thing--began to wag again. It slapped the floor with hefty thuds. Her jaws worked the oily bone, and then she let it go for a moment to blink up with friendly curiosity at Rue. "Where... 'd... you get this?" she managed, after a moment's focus on these stinky words. (They were hard.) She looked at it, then Rue again. "'S'not rocks?" she asked.

@Rue

A soft snicker escapes Rue as the child pounces on the bone. Little Corundum almost reminds them of themself when they were younger - Sheeeeesh I'm getting old.

Though the horrors of the passage of time will be shoved into the back of Rue's mind for now. There is a delightful little menace in front of them, happily chewing on their newest prize. "You are welcome," they smile back, watching her tail thump happily.

"That is a BONE," they explain, enunciating so it's clear for the little half-valk. "They are inside you, and me. This one came from dinner, though. A fair amount are lying around the caves, too - from others long gone."

Maybe it was bit soon to teach Corundum about mortality, but Rue doesn't particularly care or realize. They are a child of the Forge, after all.

@V-Corundum-One

V-CORUNDUM-ONE

Corundum was silent for a long moment, her gaze slowly alternating from the bone, to Rue, to her own feet, back to Rue. At length she hazarded a slow conclusion: "We have ROCKS, in us?" She hadn't swallowed any of the oil, which was good; as it stood she was spitting some out, then circling back to the bone (both physically and mentally) to try and crunch it. It cracked but didn't shatter. Then she lifted her own leg, studying it, comparing it. "...Why?!" But like any child learning about the horrors of inner skeletons, she seemed delighted.

So far, her education from Rue seemed to be: 'bones are are kind of rock, and they are inside our bodies.'

Oh, and--"How you-... How did you... get it OUT?!" And--"What's dinner?"

@Rue

Rue is delighted to shatter little Corundum's world, several times over. Vargas would be proud. They laugh some more, oil dripping from their mouth with the noise.

"Kinda. Sorta. Not really a rock, but close enough," they say. In truth, they don't really know what bone is, beyond a bone. The floor is made of floor, all that jazz. Still, they'll humor the half-valk. "Dinner. There's critters, that don't talk like us. They are dinner. You tear them apart, eat all the juicy meat, and then you are left with the bones. Though, don't try to take the bones out of anyone who can talk. Vargas wouldn't be happy."

A+ parenting.

@V-Corundum-One

V-CORUNDUM-ONE

Corundum paused, looking up and listening with wide eyes.

Her mental notes to self were as follows: living things had rocks inside them, that were called bones. And there was meat that you could eat. But don't pull the bones out of talking stuff...

"DO PLANTS HAVE BONES?!" she shrieked, with the sudden hilarity of any small child coming up with such a concept.

That would be amazing.

She spotted her tail, then--which was always cool. And launched herself for it, giving feverish chase. After a moment she collapsed, panting; the same tail thudded the ground again as she looked back up at Rue, but it was clear she wouldn't be awake much longer.

@Rue

They stare at the Corundum for a moment, eyes blinking as they process her question. Though after a moment they burst into laughter, rolling over onto their side. "No, no, plants don't have bones! At least... I don't think so. Never found any when I burned any of the things!" they laugh, spattering oil all over the floor.

I like this one, they decide, grinning as the little half-valk spins round and round before collapsing in a heap of fur and spikes. "Tired already? You had been going so fast earlier." They voice is a gentle teasing - not as harsh as Rue could be. "Though I suppose you have a very big day of playing with bones ahead of you. You can take the sleeping spot next to mine, it's not being used."

@V-Corundum-One