ZANRIL & VARRICK - MAINTAIN

The little porcupine creatures that flocked around the Matriarch were a curious sight. Not so long ago, the surface had faced trouble with inflicted Zataros running rampant causing mayhem and destruction, and here were the culprits of the disaster. Small, prickly, fuzzy, Nyxthorns. They chittered and shuffled about, with some Caregivers guiding the outsiders how to help care for the Matriarch’s pets. Whenever one would climb up to see her, the massive Haedian would seem to almost smile, fond of her little companions. 

Varrick was more or less wary of being pricked, but the shimmer of the magical quills did draw his eye. He shant cause trouble here of all places, but… Perhaps a discarded quill or few off the ground won’t be missed. A thought for another time, as him and Zanril were handed some food to offer to the hungry critters. Small balls of dried fruit, berry, and seed, made into snackable treats.

“Here you are then,” Varrick offered up one of the treats to a Nyxthorn. “Mind your quills, little friend. I’m quite fond of my sanity.” He smiled and spoke under his breath with a lilt to his tone. The Nyx grabbed the treat eagerly, quills sounding almost like small bells as they gently brushed together. Varrick smiled with a hum, and offered a treat to another. They seem like fun and intelligent companions, mischievous, curious. A curiosity on the surface, he could only wonder about having one for himself as a pet.
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Zanril was quite fascinated with the little Nyxthorn that were meandering and chittering to each other and the Matriarch. They were adorable little things, and oh so shiny. The quills held a dangerously tempting melody to them as the Nyxthorn moved about, Zanril knowing of the risk only due to being warned.

“A little loss in sanity would certainly spice this trip up a bit. Add some excitement, beyond all encompassing stress,” Zanril mused with a small smirk, one that turned to a grin when a few of the little creatures eagerly came up to her extended hands that had plenty of treats resting on her palms.

“They’re rather pretty. They and this cavern both hold a beauty that I can only compare to some of the rare jewels you get your claws on. It’s almost… like an inner luminance.” Zanril used a claw to gently scratch on the head of one of the pets, a quiet purr bubbling up from her when it not only leaned into her scratches but turned its head to have her scratching along its jaw. “Soft, too. You’d be quite the sought after little companion on the surface, even if your quills didn’t cause insanity.”

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Varrick was acutely aware of his surroundings, when multiple Nyxthorns hovered at his sides, preening themselves, eating treats, and seeking scratches. Their quills jingled sweet sounds almost innocent of the mayhem they might cause. Reaching under one, Varrick moved it aside by lifting it, before adjusting in his seat. “Knowing the people of the surface, these creatures would be adored for many good and bad reasons. To have one as a pet would make you memorable, to be sure.” 

Once the Nyxthorns had had their fill of treats, they seemed to retreat to their small holes and cubbies around the crystals to preen and nap away their full bellies. Caregivers would usher caution to everyone as they cleared out any fallen quills. Varrick stood from his place to clear way for them, while whisking up a few keepsakes for himself. Something to sample and study for later. They do sparkle so beautifully. He looked at Zanril as she watched the Nyxthorns shuffle off. She was calmer here, more at ease doing idle care for these small creatures, before they’d have to roll their sleeves again so-to-speak. 

She’d spoken of wanting some new jewelry in the past. Perhaps… Varrick eyed the quills being cleaned off around them, before smiling to himself. When questioned by Zanril, he only shook his head.

—

“I can only imagine the things people would do with a quill from one of them. What they would pay for one.” Zanril thought aloud as she continued to dote on the small creatures. “Let alone the creatures themselves… but I quite like the idea of these remaining scarce.”

Unlike her father, Zanril wasn’t nearly as cautious with her movements and where she was in terms of the sparkling quills. Obviously she wasn’t going to let herself be stabbed by one, but she allowed herself to brush along and bump into the quills. Zanril even ran her hand along the top of one’s quills as she hummed softly to herself, enjoying the jingling melody that tinkled to life before the Nyxthorn shook itself. She even purred quietly to herself as she pet on and fed the Nyxthorn, a sound that didn’t immediately taper off when they all shuffled off to nap their day away.

Varrick providing no answer to her brief question of what he was smiling about drew out a huff from the younger haedian as she moved out of the way of the Caregivers’ cleaning, Zanril choosing not to push on it as she sat once more. If her father wasn’t willing to spill whatever he was spinning up in his mind, then there was no sense in pushing for it. The old haedian was infuriatingly stubborn in that aspect.

“Don’t you worry. One of these Nyxthorn would never replace you, Dirt.” Zanril cooed down to her shawl as she pulled it from her enough to peek down at her undying pet toad, the little guy having croaked some kind of protest. Yeah, as neat as it would be to have one of her own, Dirt was her buddy. He had his own pocket, after all.