The protector of Eridanus had been conspicuously absent from his place in the Kingdom for a while now. He could occasionally be seen creeping through the forest, but his mutated camouflage hid him well in the undergrowth and any glances were only for a moment. Now, however, he was back, standing in the middle of the garden, which had overgrown a little in his absence, staring blankly ahead.

This was all wrong.

With a sigh, he padded forward, brushing through his plants, not giving them the loving glances he usually spared for them, but at least carefully weaving through, damaging as little as he went. As he hit the treeline, he didn't stop until he disappeared into the undergrowth again. But at least this was a familiar path. To the smaller garden not far that was home to one of the Kingdom's citizens. He needed his advice.

He stopped as he reached the entrance and called out, gently. "Mercurius. Are you home?"

@Mercurius

Within the maw of mosses, Mercurius had remained. Somewhat of a hermit, these days, the Lorespinner spent quite a bit of his time in his green fortress of solitude; preening, caring, keeping his plants in prime condition for the days that Pride visited and those that his sons returned home. His home was open to the rest of the Kingdom's denizens, though they had grown scarce over the cycles. The ex-Bloodberries all seemed to be gone, now, but the beast found solace in having not heard whisperings of further trouble. They had been children deep down. Simply misguided.

The old lion hoped, at least, that he had given them some direction, some hope, some way to improve their outlook on life. From the get-go, the little Yew had shown promise. Even she had flown the coop.

Mercurius did not mind. He never did as much anymore.

He tended to a particular set of orchids, spurring them on with a soft hum. As the caves grew later in the year, it was inevitable that they would wither away like many of the other plants, roots settling in for a long, early cold. Rift's voice came softly, politely as ever from the grotto's entrance, but with a light sense of urgency. As always. Mercurius turned with a rumble, calling softly, "come in, Rift." Sighing a great dad-sigh, the old beast rocked onto his haunches and awaited his visitor.

@Rift

He could smell the lion in the air and a moment later his rumbling voice called back from within the grotto. He pushed forward through the undergrowth until the white pelt was in sight. He blinked slowly and gave him a small dip of his head. "Sorry for bothering you, but I need some advice."

He glanced around the garden, pleased with the sight of so many beautiful plants growing healthy, tended to so carefully by the old lion. He wished, deep inside, that all members of the Kingdom felt such love for nature, but his insecurities told him that this simply was not the case.

He was silent for a moment before he jerked out of his thoughts, giving his pelt a small shake. "Ah, um, it's about the Kingdom...I've been having second thoughts about the choices I've made."

@Mercurius

"Don't apologize," Mercurius rumbled softly, "for simply seeking." Many neonates learned to walk within minutes of their emergence, how to hunt and what can and cannot be eaten. It varied creature-to-creature what their first steps in survival were, but one thing was central and nearly universal: calling for help. "Asking for advice, help, is a natural thing, Rift."

He smiled pleasantly though and indicated towards one of the numerous moss-beds littering the grotto with a bowed head, moonstone flickering lightly with magic. A gentle pulse of bacteria would - hopefully - move through Rift's body, easing any symptoms of weariness, if only a little. It was intended to be a comforting gesture where he didn't want to make sudden, possibly unwanted contact.

After a long pause, the lion hummed. "Second thoughts, hm? Of what sort?" Simply engaging, permitting the oncoming vent.

@Rift