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For the following day or so after the event in his ‘nook’ further up the mountain, Ataya avoided visiting it. On the one hand, excitement and curiosity plagued him, but on the other, he wasn’t entirely certain he could escape the wild thing twice on his own — if it was still lingering around, or if it returned — and he didn’t want to risk it. Additionally, of course, he wanted to tell his sister. How, though, to avoid alerting their parents, was another matter entirely.

So it was that he said nothing the first day, contemplated over the night, and the following morning — nearing on midday, after Father had forced them through the painful drudgery of their daily exercises and weapons training — he ushered Akara aside, shuffling eagerly on the balls of his feet as he debated how to tell her of his discovery. Eventually, his inquiry began:

“Can you keep a secret?”

“Well…” Ataya hesitated. How to start? “I saw something, the other day. You know the spot I showed you, up and around the mountain near that tree? Where I practice with my books? And where I use the spells…” ‘…that Mama doesn’t want me practicing…’ “…well, where I practice by myself, anyway…” He shook his head. “Something came there the other day. It wasn’t dangerous,” he assured her. “Or…” His brow furrowed. “Well, it wasn’t very dangerous — I don’t think. I’m not sure what it was…it was kind of like a boy. But it had claws! And made sounds like RAWR!”

He imitated, clawing his fingers down as best he could and trying — with limited success — to look ferocious himself.

“And it walked on all fours, and hissed, and threw a rock at me, and bit me…and it smelled awful. Like the stables in the morning before they’re clean, and rotten meat, and mud, all together — but worse.”

Realizing that, in order to encourage his sister to come help him look for the monster boy thing, this was — perhaps — not the best line of talk, he straightened his posture and ran a hand back through his hair.

“Anyway…it was a little like a boy, I think…and I want to find it again.” He watched Akara, weighing her reaction. “We could go look together…? And, if we do find it…” He hesitated, “…you could help me name it?”

“Well…” Ataya frowned. Now that she mentioned it, perhaps it did sound a bit strange, especially considering the manner in which he’d presented the information. “It’s a kid. Sort of. Like us? He’s not like us…and only sort of like a kid. But he is interesting. And he has wings! And he was in my spot, and I want to go back there anyway, but I don’t want to go alone. If he’s there again, I should at least have company, but I can’t tell Father or Mother, so…”

He eyed his sister.

“And, if I spoke to it enough…maybe we could teach it to be better? It spoke. Kind of. It said a word. So it must be at least a little bit…” ‘Intelligent’ seemed to be stretching the concept too far. “It can think. Some. It’s very fierce, and if it was our friend we would have someone else to play with and explore with?”

Ataya blinked, and then — as her words sank in — immediately brightened, half giddy with his excitement. He wasn’t entirely sure himself why he was quite so caught up in the idea of finding the boy-thing again, but he did very much hope to. It just seemed so novel to him. An actual child — sort of — in their age range, in these very mountains. A flawed, wild, filthy, and unpredictable one, but company nonetheless.

And, he wasn’t about to abandon his books.

Though he wanted to find the thing again, even if they didn’t, it would be good to have his sister with him to secure the premises and ascertain that he could practice there again. However logical or illogical it might have been, he genuinely wasn’t afraid of the boy thing. Not anymore, anyway. It had been vicious, and bit him, but looking back on it, that seemed more of a behavioral issue than a means of hurting him for the purpose of hurting him. The creature had been larger and stronger than he, and if it had truly wanted to hurt him, it likely would have. But it hadn’t. So, Ataya had hope.

When the coast cleared, leaving room for them to start up the mountain without parents on their tail, Ataya lead the way, his pace unusually quick with his excitement, despite his soreness from the earlier training session. He picked his way carefully over the rocks, sure-footed for the most part despite his clumsiness, thanks to how familiar the path had become to him and how familiar the mountains in general were to him, after spending most of the years of his life among them.

“Now,” Ataya said as they moved up the ‘path’ towards his nook, “you shouldn’t actually shoot it, if we see it — not unless it really tries to hurt us — but it didn’t before, other than biting me. I don’t think it wanted to hurt me, and I don’t want to kill it…we’d probably never find another.”

He didn't have copious amounts of time to stray so far from camp. If he stayed out much later than dusk, Ralekraes would come looking for him. And if the other Firani couldn't find his childish charge, he'd have second thoughts about letting Dysarrin scamper off on his own again.

So by the time the sun peeked over the crags the next day, there was no time to lose. By then, of course, he'd come up with a way to capture the little pureblood creature, a way that didn't involve quite as much struggle on his part: food. Ataya was so skinny and puny that he must be positively starving. Like all starving creatures Dys had ever known, he would forsake safety for a meal. So he'd just leave a little trail of meat scraps for the thing to follow and cut out the struggle of carrying him or fighting him.

It was his best idea ever. Definitely going to work.

As he clambered up the stone wall, with a small hoard of bouken dangling by their tails from his teeth, Dysarrin was immensely proud of his pure genius. Even finding "Ataya's spot" empty when he first arrived didn't bring him down. With a self-satisfied rumble, he climbed up into the tree and perched on the lowest branch, expectantly crouching down and staring at where he'd seen the pureblood boy scamper off to the day before.

As it turned out, it was the waiting that he wasn't prepared for.

It was boring, quiet, all manner of disturbingly dreadful things that Dysarrin had a hard time coping with. He couldn't do anything, lest the sounds scare the tiny creature off before he got here. He was simply stuck to discontented mutterings and... occasionally nibbling on his bouken traps. If he just took a bite or two or four, there should still be enough one measly pureblood...

Except that probably wasn't going to be the case, he noted as a figure- figures, picked their way across the rocks. Dys sat up, leaning forward on his branch as he definitely spotted a second thing. With an intrigued hum, he crept across the branch, ignoring the moans of the wood as his weight threatened to be too much for it.

There were two. There were really two of them. They had to come from a city, and it had to be close, and that was great (for some reason Dys didn't fully understand). But for now, he only needed one. Maybe they'd fight over the food! Yeah, he'd like that. Very interesting. Almost worth the boredom of waiting. He leaned precariously away from the branch as he squinted down at him. The girl-thing one would probably win. She even kind of looked ready to fight.

Oh well. He supposed it didn't matter which of them survived.

When they were closer, practically underneath him, Dys yipped softly, giving a bounce on his branch to draw their attentions.

Kara’s nose wrinkled as they made their way up and over the slope and to Ata’s practicing spot. The smell that assaulted her nose, made her pause and glance around. It was horrible and the sight before her wasn’t any better. Strewn about were the left over corpses of what looked to be boukens. She closed her eyes and tried to ignore the smell as her stomach rolled. Dead animals were nothing new to her. Their parents hunted and brought them home. This, however, was not normal. The meat stunk and it was obvious that it had started to rot already. It was sickening.

Her eyes jerked open at the sound of movement above them. She was already drawing her bow, and arrow nocked, by the time her gaze fell to the creature in the tree. Her lips thinned as she realized that at least some of the smell was coming from their visitor. When Ata spoke she wanted nothing more to look at her brother like he was crazy but she didn’t dare take her eyes off of the creature.

This is what Ataya had been talking about? It was filthy, dirt covered and big. Much larger than they were. And Ata trusted it? Her brother was crazy. All the same, though, she let her arrow relax but kept her bow at the ready. She did not trust the thing, yet and she would not make herself completely vulnerable to attack. She didn’t want to be bit even if it didn’t break the skin. Her gaze flit to Ata for a second. “Ata...are you sure this is such a good idea?”

Kara’s gaze went back to the creature...thing...and she took a step back, not wanting to be directly under the tree any longer. Her eyes narrowed at it and she huffed. “Can you talk?”

Ataya blinked at the question.

Well, at least the thing hadn’t attacked. That was good. He wasn’t sure he could keep either it or his sister from killing each other if they had started attacking one another (which, in retrospect, was probably a lack of foresight on his part). But…why? Why what? Why was he here? Why had he brought his sister? Why did he have a sister? Why was she his sister?

“I wanted to show you to her,” he said, guessing. “She wanted to meet you.” It wasn’t precisely true, considering that the immediate aftermath of Ataya’s introductory explanation of his meeting had involved Akara drawing down sharpened arrows from the wall and equipping herself to kill if necessary. But Ataya didn’t suppose that information was strictly required at the moment. “Her name’s Akara. And you…do you have a name? I can give you one, if you don’t. They’re nice to have. We could call you…” He squinted, thoughtful. ‘Stinky’ didn’t seem very kind. Nor did ‘Rot’ or ‘Claws.’ But what did one call an oversized, boy-creature thing that looked to be made as much of filth and hair as anything else? “Dra…gor…o? Dragoro…or…mmm…Mongro…”

He glanced to his sister, communicating a silent look of, ‘Help? Thoughts?’

“Zar…oth…”

Nothing sounded quite right.

Dysarrin's brow furrowed and a tooth poked through his lips as he thought. Mm, Ataya didn't really answer his question. She was a sister, and wanted to see things, but that didn't really explain why he'd want to share with her. Poor, deprived things. What truly sad lives they must lead. The girl sister even whimpered. Yes, yes, pitiful prey creature. Your fear is understandable. He gave her shove at him a responding jab with his knuckles against her arm, but she obviously needed time to acclimate herself, like Golden Pet had. Maybe come back to her later.

With a grunt, he swiveled away from her and slunk closer to the pureblood from last day. Ataya.

And his funny, nonsensical ramblings. Dys's eyes narrowed. This one had much to say, while simultaneously managing to convey practically nothing. Such a waste of valuable energy. Or maybe it was just a different... language? His head tipped at the slur or foreign sounds trailing behind Ataya's other sentences. What did it mean, what did it mean? Did the other girl understand? She didn't respond... Pureblood language?

Once he was within arm's length, he hummed softly and clawed at the fabric along Ataya's shirt, swaddled around him like prey's protective pelt, only not as attached. He dragged down insistently, encouraging the other boy to take up a place on the ground and perhaps repeat this new language to him. It was suddenly important to know what they were saying. How dare they keep things from him?