bsumone | ❝ Our greatest glory is not in never falling ❞

Falling out of the sky like some kind of wounded osprey was never pleasant. Nor was it dignified (not that Gaja cared much about that). He knew he was approaching the end since about three years ago. The fiery orange plumage began to fade then and he knew it was time. He was hardly a young bird, but even so he’d never found that his life cycle was exact. It was every hundred years or so.

It always began with the fading colors. Then Gaja found he couldn’t travel as far or as long in one go. Until, finally, a sudden weakness gripped him and, if he were flying (which he usually was), he simply plummeted from the sky like a rock.

This time, he saw the wooded area below… a dangerous place to burn, to be sure. Gaja tried to be careful to find somewhere safe, a place where he wouldn’t endanger the local creatures or human settlements. But very near… a river! As much as he disliked being in water, being near it tended to be safe. River basins were often far enough away from the trees and brush that it was safe for him to be ablaze there.

Since he wasn’t flaming on his way down, Gaja knew it could take a few days more before he burned. Hopefully he could rest here in peace. Hopefully this was somewhere where animals, people, or even just high winds wouldn’t disturb his ash for the time it took his body to reform in it…

Gaja threw his weight through the air to direct himself toward that shimmering river. And crashed with a meteor-like rumble just beside it. From out of the small crater, came a groan – falling out of the sky was never pleasant because that meant crashing into hard earth. After a moment to change into his smaller, human form, Gaja clawed his way out of the hole his much larger phoenix shape left in the ground.

This time of the year is usually quiet. With the fish not yet having spawned and the vegetation not yet fully grown, the humans had not yet started wandering his way looking for blessings or requesting to fish and gather in and around his river. A small handful will happen by from time to time, but the majority of those who take the time to see him will be by in the coming months. So for now, his days are rather quiet. They're mostly spent watching the watching the wildlife or sleeping, waiting for when he'll be needed again.

Today is one such day where sleeping the time away seems to win out over everything else. The fewer days he drags out while having an infinite number of them the better. His long, serpentine body is stretched out just beneath the water in the deepest part of the river, his scales catching the sunlight in such a way that makes him near undetectable beneath the shimmering surface unless one where to be specifically looking for him there. There, he sleeps rather soundly until he's awoken by a nearby rumble. Disturbingly nearby. He opens his eyes and lifts his head just far enough above the water to see what had happened. What fresh hell have the humans unleashed on his beautiful river bank? Does he have to make an example out of a human today?

Nam takes a moment to shift into his more human-looking form before pulling himself up out of the water to stand on the riverbank opposite the fresh crater. He pushes his wet hair out of his face as he stares narrow-eyed at the destruction on the other side of the water. "What do you think you're doing?"

Oh, crap. He’d ended up disturbing someone after all. Gaja’s quite literally crawling out of the very large hole he made (thank goodness most humans just assume a rock fell from the heavens) when he shivers at the feel of those irate eyes on him. Getting out of the crater actually takes some time given that he’s too weak to simply stand and pull himself out of it. Still, he manages a smile toward the river’s guardian once he flops on the ground beside the hole.

In this form, at this time, Gaja’s usually bright plumage has faded, leaving him looking dull and boring (in his opinion). But when he peers up at the river spirit, there’s still shimmering flecks of gold in his dark brown eyes. And maybe a spark of mischief that still remained.

“Dying,” he rasped. Yes, Gaja means it literally.

Had Nam not been here to see exactly what happened, he might have thought the same as the humans. He might have thought that it was nothing more than a rock falling from the sky, though he'd start to question it when he found no such rock in the bottom of the crater. As it happens, though, Nam is usually here to see what happens. This time, he maybe not have seen the creature fall out of the sky, but he's certainly seeing the aftermath of it. The very destructive aftermath. The destructive aftermath that Nam will probably have to fix himself.

In the face of the bird's smile, Nam narrows his eyes further, though the rest of his expression stays mostly neutral. This is no time for smiles, bird. The river's guardian is rather displeased with your presence.

"Must you do it here?"

Oh, no. Gaja always cleans up after himself. It might be a few days, though. He still has to die and be reborn – unfortunately neither of those things follow an exact timeline. It could be another few days before Gaja bursts into flames. After that, it could be a few days to almost a fortnight before he emerges from the ashes.

It probably would’ve been safer for him to stay in the hole. He doesn’t know this spirit and there’s no promise that Nam won’t slimply kick his pile of ash into the wind. How awful that would be for Gaja specifically.

Panting quietly at the exertion to get out of the very hole he’s currently considering slithering back into, Gaja’s smile fades by degrees.

“I’m afraid it must be here. I haven’t the strength to go anywhere else.”

And yet Nam will take it upon himself to fix the hole the bird left anyway. Unless that's where it decides to die, then Nam would rather not look at the eyesore of a hole for days or potentially weeks. But if that's where the bird dies, then he's not about to disturb it. He may be protective of this area, but he isn't so cruel that he would disturb some poor creature's resting place, regardless of how temporary it might be.

Though Nam will probably never say such a thing out loud (he doesn't want to encourage this behaviour), he would never do a thing like kicking the bird's ashes into the wind. Again, he's not so cruel as that. And it was safer for Gaja to at least have made himself known to be in the hole. As irritating as this whole situation is, with knowing the bird is there, Nam will protect him. Crash landing in the dragon's domain means forcing himself into the dragon's protection.

He'll watch over the bird until he's himself again, though if Gaja wants to think otherwise of this unknown river spirit he's stumbled upon, Nam will say nothing to the contrary.

"If you must, then you'll do so in the mess you've already created. I won't allow you to burn my river bank."

Gaja cranes his neck to look around, mostly trying to gauge the distance from where he lies to anything particularly flammable. The trees are a good distance away, probably save unless his immolation is particularly explosive. In which case it’s possible for a spark to reach some brush stretching out.

Yes, it’s definitely safer for him and the area around him to die in the hole. After all the effort to climb out of it! Gaja heaves a sigh and lets his head fall back to the ground.

Under most conditions, Gaja could control his fire. It would burn only what he wishes it to burn. But at this particular point in his life cycle the flames are no longer his to control (hence why they burn him as well).

“I can’t promise not to singe some of it,” he admits ruefully. “You may want to go back in the water when it happens. To be safe.” Another sigh before he adds, “I’ll do my best to keep everything around here safe from the flames.”

Nam cants his head ever so slightly to one side as he watches the bird. Of all the places for such a destructive thing to land, it had to be in him home, near his river. All he cares about in this world is right here, and he risks losing it to a ball of flame and ash. Which means he risks losing himself to this troublesome bird. And yet he simply can't bring himself to force the bird elsewhere. Sure, Gaja said he doesn't have the strength to move on, but Nam possesses the strength to move him. To be completely honest, Nam possesses the jaws and teeth to eat the bird as well, but he'll do neither.

Nam will watch the bird as he's doing now, and he'll watch the surrounding area as he's always done. He'll take care of any stray sparks and errant flames. He'll risk losing everything to watch over this bird who unknowingly came to him.

"I'm not afraid of your flames. Besides, I told you I'll not allow you to burn my river bank, which means keeping an eye on you until your fire's gone out."

Though they’ve only just met (and under less than ideal circumstances), Gaja’s grateful that Nam’s going to keep this terrain safe. Perhaps crashing here was fortunate after all. He’s pretty sure he’s far enough away from the trees… but he’s never certain. He could sputter out or blow up. It’s not up to him to decide how a lifecycle ends.

Gaja shifts to peer at Nam in his human form. Some inhabitant of the river, clearly, but what exactly isn’t clear to him. All he can sense is power and age. His expression turns curious. “How big is your real body?” If it’s large enough, he could sweep the hole closed when Gaja begins to burn. That will surely help to protect this land.

Gaja was practically across the world from Nam's river when the question of bellybuttons arose. Because he mimics the human body, of course Gaja has one when he's in that shape. He just assumed Nam does, too. But the question burns in his mind for hours, days, weeks. He's never had occasion to see Nam naked — why would he? It's their power to conjure up clothes when they shift forms... right? Has he ever actually seen Nam transform? Gaja can't remember (not surprising).

Eventually, the question prompts him to make the long journey back to pay his dear old crocodile a visit. It's urgent he finds out! So urgent he doesn't bother traveling like a human. Instead, he takes to the sky on flaming wings, soaring high above the clouds, out of sight of most mortal eyes. It only takes him a few days to traverse the globe in his true form.

He shifts one more into the shape of some mortal bird — always something easily as large as an albatross — before dipping out of the cloud cover. Gaja lands on the bank of Nam's river and transforms once more into the shape of a human. He bounds eagerly to the water's edge, crouching down to splash in it with one hand. To get Nam's attention, of course. It's like knocking, right?

"Nam~! Naaaam~"

As is usual when things have become quiet around the river, when there have been few humans who've come by to bother him with their increasingly trivial problems, Nam lays beneath the surface of the water. The rippling and rushing of the strong current as well as the way the light bounces off of his scales makes his long, serpent-like body nearly impossible to see unless one knows exactly what they're looking for.

At present, Nam is mostly laying upriver from where the bird has landed, but he still feels that hand splashing in the water. He can feel it from the end of his tail to the tip of his nose. It's different than water hitting the rocks or the occasional fish jumping up out of the river. He can tell it's not merely some animal splashing its way across from one bank to the other. It's the bird trying to get his attention.

Nam opens his eyes and twists himself around a little under the water to look back in the direction of the splashing. Then he just flicks his tail up near Gaja to splash back. An unsubtle way of telling Gaja that he has the dragon's attention and he can stop with that annoying splashing now.

Shifting into his human form beneath the water (today will not be the day Gaja gets to see the dragon transform, alas), Nam climbs up onto the riverbank and starts the walk back to the bird. He shakes the water out of his hair and pushes it back from his face with a quiet sigh. "I wasn't expecting you back just yet."

That’s something Gaja enjoys about flying above Nam’s river: he can make out the glistening shape of the dragon stretched out beneath the water. A truly wonderous sight every time he sees it. How very few get to see it, or would even know to look for that magnificent serpent under the shimmering water. A pity. Nam is a beautiful sight in his true body.

Not that he isn’t beautiful in his human shape either. It’s simply in his nature to be breathtaking.

“Gaaah!” Gaja yelps when Nam’s tail splashes him. He leaps back to get out of range (not that Nam couldn’t make a bigger splash to get him if he wants to). Being a fiery creature, Gaja’s never been particularly fond of water or being wet. At least today he’s bright and orange and thus not wearing one of his hats that Nam finds so odious.

The annoyance is fleeting, gone in the mere blink of an eye. How can he be annoyed when Nam’s already sliding out of the water all lovely and glistening. For a second, Gaja forgets human language.

Then he trots forward, full of bounding energy. His dark eyes are wide as the fix on the dragon, expression serious. “An urgent matter came up.”

The energy paired with the seriousness of the bird's expression is a bit of a confusing combination to the poor dragon. Before Gaja speaks, Nam isn't entirely sure what it is he's supposed to be reacting to, thus which direction his own reaction should be going in. Then the bird makes his announcement and it becomes a little- Well, not clearer, but close enough.

Light meets dark as Nam's eyes settle on Gaja's and he tips his head to one side, brows pulling together ever so slightly in a show of concern. And perhaps just a touch of confusion. While it's not the most uncommon occurrence, the dragon never expects the bird to come to him with urgent matters. What urgent matters could a fiery sky creature have that would need to involve a watery creature that keeps himself mostly tethered to the land?

"What urgent matter?"

It was all the bird could do to remain still, hands balling into fists at his sides so he didn’t just grab at the dragon. He deserves some praise for being so restrained. From the look on his face, this might be a matter of life and death. Alas, it’s only his inability to shake the curiosity about whether or not Nam’s human form has a bellybutton. Once something gets stuck in his head, that’s it. It’s all Gaja can focus on.

He took a lurching half-step closer, then stopped abruptly. Keep your hands to yourself, Gaja!

“Show me your stomach.”

Nam's gaze travels from the bird's face, down to his hands and then back to his face. Though his expression appears to remain mostly neutral, his growing concern is clear to anyone who knows the dragon well enough to know what they're looking for. How his brows pull together even further, the way his eyes grow just a little wider and his features seem to soften, he's deeply concerned by the way Gaja is acting right now. Concerned by him and for him.

Then all of that comes crashing down when the phoenix lurches forward, making his asinine demand. Even the barest trace of concern is entirely gone. He takes a step back from Gaja, his arms crossing his stomach. "Why?"

Gaja blinked several times in rapid succession at the question. Why? Hadn’t he already said it was urgent? Wasn’t he asking rather than simply grabbing at the dragon to find out for himself?

“It’s urgent,” he repeated. “Someone was asking about human-shaped creatures and why they have bellybuttons. So I started wondering if you have one in your human form, too.” Since Gaja made the conscious choice to mimic human bodies, his human form has one. And then he got to wondering if Nam had one and, once the idea got stuck in his head Gaja simply couldn’t put it to rest.

“Can I see?”

Clearly, their definitions of the word 'urgent' are vastly different. Though perhaps the fact that Gaja did, in fact, ask instead of just grabbing at Nam means that he doesn't even know his own definition of the word 'urgent'. It can't really be that urgent if he's managing to restrain himself!

Nam takes another half step back from Gaja, tightening his arms a little around his mid-section, should the bird's impatience get the best of him. He'd prefer to not have some pheasant grabbing at him, thank you. Even if it's this particular pheasant.

"Why was someone asking about human-shaped creatures?"

Why does Nam need so much context? Gaja whines quietly and stamps his foot like a petulant human child. But, doing so keeps him from closing the space Nam's put between them. Somehow, he's holding back. Maybe because he actually cares about the old crocodile's comfort. Surely Nam won't be pleased if Gaja just grabs at him.

"Curiosity," he snaps impatiently. What else prompts humans to question things?

The most magnificent pout bows his lips and Gaja rocks back on his heels, needing to do something to get all his energy out.

"Let me see, please?"

Surely Nam won't be pleased if Gaja just grabs at him is right! He spends the majority of his time on his own and even when others come to see him (aside from Gaja, who is the exception), they always keep a certain distance from the dragon. They approach with caution and then give him space. So while he doesn't necessarily react poorly to someone suddenly grabbing at him, he can. But mostly, it just makes him uncomfortable.

"And you didn't stop to question that this person knows about creatures that can take human shape? Instead of focusing on the ridiculous question?"

Nam feels nothing in the face of your pout, bird.

"And if I say no?"

"Why would I question that? I've met plenty of normal humans who know about us." Sometimes in detail, but mostly in the vaguest of sense. "Of course, an antisocial homebody like you might not know that."

POUT!

"If you won't show me, will you at least tell me if you have one?"

"They shouldn't know about us." Said as though those living in close proximity to the river don't know about him. They may not know that this young man is the dragon, himself (he suspects that many don't believe the dragon is actually real, having never seen it for themselves) but most of them know he's something other than human. Especially the older ones who've been coming to see him since they were children. It's hard to ignore the fact that they all got older but he never did.

"Whether or not I do shouldn't be that important to you."

"You're focusing on the wrong thing!" One in a couple hundred is nothing! One ina couple hundred, isolated from others who know or believe in their existence, is no danger. But that's not even the point!

Gaja puffs out his cheeks and finally stomps his foot before crumpling dramatically to the ground. He flops onto his back and very nearly kicks his legs in a childish tantrum. Then he goes still and huffs a sigh.

"I might die if you don't tell me!"

"No, I believe you're the one focusing on the wrong thing." Because that thing that he's focusing on is under the dragon's clothes and he doesn't like that. Even if it is rather innocent. But that doesn't mean he has to give in to the demands of a silly bird.

Taking a few steps to the side, Nam steps back into the river and takes a seat on a large rock with his arms still circled tightly around his middle. Is sitting in the water being used as an extra layer of defense against the bird's potentially grabby hands, or no more than an easy way to get off of his feet while Gaja has his meltdown? Yes.

"Don't be so dramatic. Besides, you'll die eventually even if I do tell you."

"But I'll die satisfied!"

Gaja lays there for quite a while, heaving sighs and huffing before he pushes himself back to his feet. He actually throws a glare in Nam's direction before stalking away from the river. If the dragon wants to be cruel, that's his business. Gaja doesn't have to subject himself to it.

"I won't bother you again."

It's actually more likely that he'll die with neither one of them even remembering this unimportant conversation. It's one of thousands they'll have before the bird goes up in flames. Even the dragon with his long memory can't possibly remember them all, especially one that's come about as a fleeting interest of the bird.

Nam simply watches Gaja with his huffs and heavy sighs and when he gets up to stalk off, the dragon strongly considers just letting him go. It's not like this would truly be the last he'd see of the phoenix and it would free him of this ridiculous fixation.

"I told you not to be dramatic." Nam not wanting to answer a question would hardly be considered cruel by most. What's cruel is feeling like he's being manipulated into an answer, whether it's Gaja's intention or not. He should just let him go. "I do have one, by the way. There would be questions if it were noticed by anyone who doesn't know what I really am, so it's simpler that way."

Manipulation, indeed. That would require a sort of brain function and no small amount of malic Gaja simply doesn't possess. Nam isn't privy to Gaja's fits of fixation since, well, they've never involved him specifically. Old and wise as a phoenix is claimed to be, he's still just a bird at heart. A very large one. There's a reason why calling someone bird-brained is an insult.

He pauses in his step. Only for a few seconds. Only long enough to mutter a quiet 'thank you' before continuing on. Hadn't he just said he wouldn't bother Nam anymore? Let him keep his word.

The bird may feel fortunate for having crashed here, but the dragon feels it's his own misfortune that lead the flaming creature here. Though the vegetation around his river is green and vibrant at this time of the year, full of life and not quite as susceptible to burning as it may be during the colder months, all it would take is one errant spark that escapes Nam's attention for just a little too long for him to lose everything.

And yet Nam still can't bring himself to force the bird elsewhere. He can't foist the responsibility of tending to the bird's fires on someone else when he's fully able to do it on his own, so long as he remains vigilant, of course. Being a creature of the water, Nam may actually be best suited for the task, even. It would be in the best interest of many for him to not ignore so large a fact.

Nam's brows pull together ever so slightly at the stranger's question before he turns toward his river and idly gestures at it. "My size is comparable to the river, itself. More than large enough, I'm sure, for whatever plan your question seems to be leading to."

Nam hasn't had such a day in quite some time. An almost constant flow of people to and from his riverbanks. He's certain that he's seen nearly every one of the locals during the day. All coming to honour the dragon. All coming to recieve his blessings, hoping he can grant them their wants and needs for the upcoming year. Hopes for prosperity. Wants for untold riches. Some simply desire good health for themselves and their families.

And of course, they brought him offerings. Fresh local foods and expensive imported wines. Handmade crafts and jewellery. Jewellery that he will never wear, but that he will always graciously accept. It's not quite to his tastes. All manner of things that he appreciates but has little use for.

As the day wore on, the visitors grew fewer and further between until finally, Nam sits alone. It's dark now with the only light coming from a small fire Nam's built to ward off the chill in the air. It reflects beautifully off of the surface of the water, and especially so on the jeweled necklace given to him by a certain bird.

Along with the beautiful necklace (his prized possession), Nam has dressed himself in elegant, flowing clothing befitting the river guardian. His nails are all painted a glossy black and the colour around his eyes matches that of his clothing. He's even gone so far as to have strings of small gems weaved into some braids in his hair. He's mostly dressed up for his own benefit, but perhaps also just in case a flaming bird should happen by.

From what he'd seen during his fall, the river's a large one. If the stranger's body was comparable in size, yes, he's more than large enough to sweep the displaced earth back over the hole with Gaja inside. Nam seems eager to protect this land (unsurprising given how territorial many sedentary creatures are. Gaja has no idea what that feels like, personally. His only home is the sky and that spans the world. But this creature, his home is this river and the adjacent lands. Of course he wants to protect it from destruction.

And destruction is all uncontrolled phoenix fire brings.

It may have been a comical sight under different circumstances. The bird in a human form, the upper half of his body draped over the crater's edge, fingers digging into the ground to keep himself from sliding back into it. But there's real concern, real fear in those gold-flecked dark eyes. Sweat dots his brow from the effort to keep himself from letting go to fall back into the hole. Washed-out blond hair clings to his face and every breath sounds ragged.

"When the fire starts, bury me." It's not an order by any stretch of imagination. Gaja wouldn't dare try to order anything around when he's at his weakest. It's more of a suggestion, one he's pretty certain Nam will agree to if it helps protect his land.

Time's passing is so different for immortal creatures. Indeed, if not for the colorful winter celebrations of human, Gaja would hardly know another year has passed. But the lights in the west when the cold begins settle in is a sure sign of it. It was hot when he last so Nam, the height of summer... but was it this year's summer or some summer before? Well, if Gaja couldn't even remember, it's definitely time for a visit! He can only imagine how busy Nam must be at this time of year with humans coming to wish for good fortune.

It's dark by the time he reaches Nam's river. Dark save for the glow of a fire and the shimmer of it dancing off the jewels hanging from the dragon's neck. Even at so great a distance, Gaja recognizes the necklace he gifted to his old friend. There's more than just that glinting in the firelight. But Gaja will have to wait until he's closer to discern the details.

Once he lands, he takes human shape and draws nearer to Nam and his small fire. How breathtaking the dragon looks with his dramatic makeup and dark clothes. If Gaja gasps, he'll never admit it was Nam that left him breathless!

"Are you still accepting visitors?"

Even with the transition from one year to the next being clearly marked by humans visiting him in droves, it's hard to tell one from the other. A few hours over the course of a single day is barely more than the blink of an eye for one whose life has already spanned many centuries, and will go on for many more. Not that time is particularly important to a dragon. Or rather, no time matters aside from the wait between visits from a certain bird. He will never admit it, but any time between visits from Gaja is far too long, which is something he once thought he would never experience.

Nam rises from the large rock he'd been sitting on the moment he hears the bird's feet touch the ground. He takes a few steps toward the approaching Gaja, though until he fiery bird is closer, he won't stray too far from his own fire. This time of the year, he normally wouldn't dress in such light, sheer fabrics with so much skin exposed, but this is a special occasion. They're moving into the Year of the Dragon. He's gotten a visit from the only one he's still accepting company from. The most special occasion of all, however, is that Nam wanted to. He wanted to go all out and feel especially beautiful. He wanted to spend the early part of the evening, when it was still light out, gazing at himself in the river's reflection, vain thing that he is.

So he sticks close to the fire until Gaja gets close enough for Nam to be able to soak up the heat that radiates from him. "If you've come seeking blessings for the upcoming year, then you'll have to look elsewhere. However, if you've simply come to honour the dragon, then I'll accept one more visitor." He tips his head to one side, allowing the fire light to catch the sparkle at his inner eye as well as the gems in his hair. Just a little something more to catch Gaja's attention. Not that he's trying to make himself more appealing to some silly bird.

Gaja idly wonders how much any of these humans actually honor the dragon. Sure, they pay their respects, but is it not because they want his good favor? Is that truly honoring him? Or maybe Gaja just places himself above them when it comes to Nam. For the obvious reason of their friendship.

Nam looks especially breathtaking, positively glittering in the light of the fire. IF Gaja looks at him in silence a little too long, just mind you're own business, Nam! Because he does leave Gaja a little speechless.

Gaja's sure that that alone will play to Nam's vanity, but just to be sure to flatter his ego, he adds, "You look more beautiful than usual tonight. I suppose it's to be expected on an important day like this." There. He even let Nam have a reason other than being pretty just for his visit.

"I don't need any blessings," he begins as he draws himself beside the dragon. "But I, too, brought you a gift."

No one but the phoenix truly honours the dragon nowadays. Once upon a time, the humans did. They didn't go to see him just because there was something they wanted from him. Sometimes his generosity saw him gift them something in return anyway, but that wasn't their purpose. Perhaps he was too generous and did this to himself. Perhaps he's the reason why the humans came to him only when they wanted something. His willingness to give paired terribly with the humans' willingness to take. And take and take. There are the occasional humans who remember what it is to truly honour Nam, but they are the exception, not the rule. And they are usually humans not yet old enough to become greedy like their elders.

Nam tips his head the other way, watching in relative silence as the bird watches him. Then he looks down at himself as though he isn't fully aware of exactly how he looks, as though every part of his appearance isn't meticulously planned and executed. "I thought there could be no better way to start the Year of the Dragon than to look my absolute best." Nam will gladly take the reason (excuse?) that Gaja so kindly gave him. Though they both know that there's far more to it than that. Far more than either of them will easily admit.

Reaching out, Nam brushes a stray strand of fiery orange hair from Gaja's face. "If it's the gift of your time and company, then I have to decline. I'm afraid I've already had more than enough," he says as the hint of a grin tugs at the corners of his mouth.

Nam would hardly suffer the stranger giving him orders even if he were at his full strength. A dragon takes orders from no one, especially not on his own land. The intruder makes a good suggestion, however, and it's one that Nam will put some considerable thought into. Whatever Nam has to do to see this land through the coming flames, even if it means taking the suggestion of some lowly bird, he will do it. While he would survive the flame as well as the river itself, little else would. What kind of guardian would that really make him?

Loosely folding his arms across his chest, Nam turns his attention back to the blond. He could just fill the hole in with water right now, with the bird still inside, and perhaps be done with this whole thing before it actually starts. For just a moment, he does consider that over the bird's suggestion, yet he makes no such moves. He does, however, make his way a little closer to the weakened intruder, opting to sit on a large boulder near the edge of the bird's crater.

"When the fire starts, I will do whatever I feel is necessary."

Gaja appreciates the unspoken reasons as much as the spoken ones. Nam is one of precious few he counts as a friend. It's difficult to make friends when one lives forever and little else does. There are some long-lived creatures out there, but most choose to remain hidden and solitary. It's only by coincidence that Gaja met Nam.

A very happy coincidence, Gaja thinks.

"I'm not so egotistical to think my time and company are gift enough to properly honor the river's guardian," Gaja snarks. Even as he speaks, he reaches into the bag he often carries (specifically to stow gifts for Nam in). He wit draws from it an ornate box of rosewood with his gift for the dragon inside.

And Gaja is the only one who Nam counts as a friend. It really is difficult to make friends when one lives forever. To befriend anyone or anything that doesn't just feels like a waste. Their lives are but a drop in the bucket to something immortal. It's hard to want to get attached when the friendship will end before it ever really began. And then for someone like Nam who can sometimes take several human lifetimes to start warming up to someone, it's simply not worth it.

Add onto that the fact that Nam so rarely leaves his river (making it difficult to even meet anyone who doesn't already know where he is or doesn't just stumble across him) and that most only seek him out to request things from him...

The bird is his only friend and he finds he's quite okay with that.

Nam's eyes drop to the bag, and the box that Gaja pulls out of it. He's seen that bag plenty of times before and he knows the sorts of things that come out of it by now, but he's not presumptuous enough to assume that it's something for him. He doesn't reach for it and instead waits for Gaja to hand it to him. He runs his fingers over the box, taking in and appreciating the beauty of it. Had the gift been no more than the box, itself, that dragon would have been grateful for it. And he's about to express as much when he opens the box and sees what's inside. His eyes light up in a way that they only ever do for Gaja. The gift is truly remarkable. Beautiful works of art. He slips them onto his fingers and then holds one hand out toward his small fire, watching the way the light reflects on the metal claws.

"I think you've outdone yourself."

The soil would definitely help to keep the flames contained. Sure, it might take Gaja longer to claw his way out of it once he's reborn, but that's something that will only affect him. It this lush riverbank were to catch fire... So many living things would be harmed, directly or indirectly. It's not a risk Gaja wants to take.

Though his crater is probably big enough to keep the fire contained, sparks still fly.

No, this creature will be well within his rights to do whatever he feels is necessary to protect his lands. Gaja has no argument. In fact, he simply nods his head. "Thank you."

So many living things would be harmed. The fire would scorch the earth and take away food that a lot of animals around here depend on or it could harm the animals themselves. The unnatural fire could heat up the river and kill the fish and vegetation living in it. What would there be left for Nam to guard, then? What would there be for him to watch over and protect? Of course everything would likely heal in time, but that wouldn't erase Nam's failings. It would help no one in the meantime and it would lose him the river's trust. He doesn't want any of that.

He will make sure to contain the bird's fire. He will make sure that no sparks escape him. He will make sure that everyone and everything comes out of this unscathed.

"Thank me by leaving here as soon as you're able."

"That could be a few days." Or weeks. It could be a handful of days before the fire even begins. Even more after for the reborn phoenix to emerge from the ashes. And more still for him to regain strength and sense enough to leave. This is truly the most vulnerable time for a phoenix.

Perhaps if Gaja were a little better at gauging the time, he could prepare better. He could find a stone cave deep in the earth. Alas, though he is a cyclical creature, there is no definite time frame for each life. Approximately a hundred years by the human reckoning. By the revolution of this world around its star. It always strikes him so suddenly. One moment he's fine, the next he's falling from the sky.

One might think Gaja's favorite hobby is adorning this 'plain' human shape of his friend's. One might not be wrong. Even as stunning as Nam's chosen human form is, it doesn't have the beauty and obvious power of a dragon. That is something Gaja's determined to correct. With jewels, with things that shimmer a shine in every form of light, with items to make this human shape seem more like the gorgeous and fearsome dragon he truly is.

What's a dragon without its claws? These especially reminded Gaja of claws and, well, wouldn't Nam's human body look more appealing with claws of his own? Something sharp to match the sharp look in Nam's eyes. Dangerous, but beautiful. Don't mind Gaja getting distracted by the light dancing over the details of those claws. He's a bird, after all.

❝ Our greatest glory is not in never falling ❞

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( sorry so short )

Bellybutton!

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I'm so sorry Nam has to deal with this clown

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Intimate New Year's Celebration

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