ORIGIN

Ursa.

Try as they might to tolerate the outer world, orderless and diseased by chaos, here remained the place least difficult to live in until efforts yielded otherwise. Kept away by their tasks elsewhere, long due had Halcyon been for a swim through its pure snows. Returning to its chilly embrace and the warmer one of Mother's, ever-present but closer as a reminder they'd entered home, the enthusiasm of a child, however grown and functional, had driven them to gleeful display befitting of such. Fins glowing brightly against the blank landscape, they had bounded about, body twisting and agile. Powder had kicked up in the wake of their weaving dance until at last they stopped, breathing hard but grinning mildly at their little moment of joy.

Gentle self-chastisement for such foolishness when the needs of the Hive demanded their attention caused the careful covering of their tracks soon after. Willing to frolic as a beast to let emotions run their course, now they operated as a Drone should: observant, calculating, undistracted by personal emotions. Having handed themselves over to quadrupedal locomotion for that brief time, they rose to two feet. Snow carefully cleared out from between fingers, their hands were held close to their chest, clasped together and ready for more delicate use than the gouges leaping around had made.

A claw reached out to the Hivemind, flicked through perspective after perspective for quick evaluation of whatever issues might require addressing. It paused, wavering, at the detection of a faint pulse at the web's boundary. This was new, the presence unfamiliar, and though there always were more additions to the family, Halcyon swore they could sense an intellect sharper than the typical Lesser consciousness.

The thread to it was weak, its establishment recent, so they took contact in multiple steps. First, a wordless query travelled along the link, requesting confirmation of their existence. Hopefully, they were not too far away for it to fade before reaching the other end. Then, turning around until the direction this stranger most likely resided was faced, they padded along with soft steps to close the gap between them.

Salutations, they sent next, thought hushed so as not to startle. I'm Halcyon. Drone Zero-Zero-Five Steward, of course, but it'd be wise to not divulge such details until the fledgling link had strengthened more. Whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?

Curiosity and welcome stretched out like a hand offered for a shake. Although they didn't expect the gesture to be returned, it'd be improper on their part to not make the attempt.

So far, as Halcyon forged a path through the many snowbanks along their way, little surprised them when it came to their mysterious stranger. Every faint reaction along the link they followed served to prove their suspicions correct: on the other side, indeed, resided an asset of more sophisticated thought than the average Lesser foot soldier or scout. The response to their inquiries relayed this, precise compared to the typical nebulous feedback of base needs and wants.

It indicated the lofty mountaintop was where their sight should rise, neck craning back to its limit, and notified them of the descent taking place at that moment. The swell of the newly Hive-tethered's fragmented speech from a whisper to a somewhat more audible murmur made the fact known, the distance closing between the two conversers strengthening the thin connection ever so slightly. At first obscured by snowflake flurries, a shape began to be made out, winged and pale, corkscrewing in the air and toward the ground. In anticipation of the landing, Halcyon's walk slowed to a crawl and an eventual stop.

And when the bird reached their level, doubly curious as they were of him, no effort was attempted to conceal their own examination. Just as his was an up and down sweep of them, theirs was a more restrained nod, calm and polite and calculating at once. Soft golden bioluminescence sought a good and friendly impression while a tinge of confusion bled into their consciousness.

"Ah, but surely you were going by? As is the expected purpose of travel." Name mistaken for an imperfect grasp of sentence structure, their head tilted inquisitively before the glow around them flickered at realization of what had truly been meant. They sighed, then laced their fingers together with a sheepish smile. "Pardon me for overlooking the nuances of your speech. I'm still adjusting to how concepts are expressed aloud. Well met, Not.

Perhaps it was a preference for conformity—maybe pride in a unifying characteristic—but despite the untidy feathers, Halcyon couldn't help noting satisfaction at the other's color scheme. A good omen, they hoped, of future interactions' outcome.

"A friend of Mother's so articulate is always appreciated. May I ask how you've come to know her?"