[As Joss steps back, Naren advances shield-first, her expression grim. Such is the duty of a tank, even one with tankxiety. A little caution is warranted anyway, she thinks; she has seen more than enough of these smiling white muzzles in the past bell or so alone to recognise what they belong to, and at this point she's willing to believe them capable of anything.
Still - why inside the giant crystalline dog sculpture? Her mind flits back through vivid memories of Bahamut Prime, of Alexander, of the late wandering heart of Zodiark... Yet the images are inextricable from the overwhelming presence she remembers from each primal, and from this smaller creature she feels nothing. Pointedly nothing. Not the living and breathing aether of a regular animal, not the cloying overaspected flatness of one excessively tempered or light-corrupted. Just nothing.
A scraping noise sounds from inside the damaged stalagmite, and now two beady black eyes are peeking out of the hole. Naren inclines her head to meet them, furrowing her brow.]
What is it that you want?
[It's something that a "normal" primal would most likely share without prompting. She has no reason to believe asking will help. Up until now, she has no reason to believe this thing even understands words. The dog simply looks up at her, its pink tongue happily lolling out; another scraping noise from within the rock suggests a wagging tail just out of sight.
Then, without warning, it lets out a resounding
BARK.
The entire stalagmite shudders and crumbles into scattered crystal sand - some plinking off the wing-like aethershield Naren immediately summons on trained instinct. From the wreckage, before she can straighten up and regain her bearings, a small, white dog levitates high into the stagnant air.]
no subject
Still - why inside the giant crystalline dog sculpture? Her mind flits back through vivid memories of Bahamut Prime, of Alexander, of the late wandering heart of Zodiark... Yet the images are inextricable from the overwhelming presence she remembers from each primal, and from this smaller creature she feels nothing. Pointedly nothing. Not the living and breathing aether of a regular animal, not the cloying overaspected flatness of one excessively tempered or light-corrupted. Just nothing.
A scraping noise sounds from inside the damaged stalagmite, and now two beady black eyes are peeking out of the hole. Naren inclines her head to meet them, furrowing her brow.]
What is it that you want?
[It's something that a "normal" primal would most likely share without prompting. She has no reason to believe asking will help. Up until now, she has no reason to believe this thing even understands words. The dog simply looks up at her, its pink tongue happily lolling out; another scraping noise from within the rock suggests a wagging tail just out of sight.
Then, without warning, it lets out a resounding
BARK.
The entire stalagmite shudders and crumbles into scattered crystal sand - some plinking off the wing-like aethershield Naren immediately summons on trained instinct. From the wreckage, before she can straighten up and regain her bearings, a small, white dog levitates high into the stagnant air.]