The Beast stacked lichen and other soft things to sleep in inside its cave. Before meeting the other, it would have just lay on the cold hard rock, but now it would not suffer that indignity. The Beast took the cave because it knew others would want it, and now it would make a soft pile that the others would yearn for. It might make a small, lesser soft pile for Steven. Steven was an odd being to the Beast. The tall fleshy man had the frame for a powerful warrior, but what he hung on that frame was the opposite of threatening. Once the Beast got over how tender and stabable Steven looked, the man looked down right amusing. How did this thing that shouldn’t have survived more than a handful of moments in the woods exist? The second skin was an armor for the Beast, it was a status symbol, but for Steven it felt necessary. Not having one seemed just as likely to kill him as falling into a shallow puddle.

But that was the other side of the coin. The Beast never would have thought to use its powers in such a way without Stevens babbling. What else did the man know that could be gleaned from the weird arm waving and mouth noises. The mouth noises felt especially important, but even now as the Beast tried to make them nothing came out but growls. Disappointed at its failure, the beast watched Steven direct his followers into different groups. Each had a purpose. The Beast had naturally felt that Steven would have an idea of what they should do next, that his words had large unseen patterns and wisdom behind them. He wanted them.

Stolen story; please report.

Steven directed some of his followers out into the woods, who started hacking at the trees with lumps of metal. They were stabbing at first, but then Steven showed them a different motion. The greens adapted, changed the shape of their tools, and trees fell quicker. That had earned Steven the attention of the other groups and their leaders. One he took to taking the trees, and shaving them down for… some purpose. Another, Steven sent further into the woods after miming what the beast thought may be a deer.

The Best could see there was a plan, a series of interconnected ideas beyond it and that was not to be tolerated. So the Beast held its hand to it’s throat and shaped metal into it, until its growls sounded like the sounds Steven made, until it could take the power of words for itself.