Hidden away in this inhospitable, forgotten cave is a forgotten little chrysalis. It's tiny, likely registering as nothing more than a strange pebble in the steam-choked tunnel. The hatchling inside drifts in dark, dreamless peace. Until...
ᖶDᕼᘿᗩ ᓰS ᗩ ᒪᘿI, Eᖶᕼ ᕵᘉᓰᗩ ᓰS ᘿᘉEᖶᒪᖇA
They hear something. Something they shouldn't be able hear, still shielded in their diaspore cocoon. Something they really shouldn't listen to.
But.
The whispers penetrate. Through their gemstone. Through their skull. Through their mind. They are spurred on by something- curiosity, empathy, maybe even fear. Emotions are strange, barely-formed in their wakening mind. The hatchling stirs- slowly at first, then gradually increasing in intensity and desperation. They're trapped. They must get out. Must escape. Must listen. Must help.
ᕼRє Sᒪᕼᖴє Sᓰ ᘿWᗩᖽᐸ. ᗩᖇєᖶ єᖶᕼ ᕼᖴSᘿᒪ ᖴᓍᘻᖇ єᕼᖶ ᓍᗷᘿᘉ.
The gemstone splinters open, a crack just large enough for the hatchling to slither out. The gemstone spike on their tail gets caught on the jagged edge of the opening, eliciting a startled squeak. One strong tug sends them tumbling fully into freedom.
ᖶєᕼ ᖴᕼᒪᘿS ᓰS ᗩWєᖽᐸ. ᖶᕼᘿ ᓰᕵNᗩ ᓰS єᖶᖇᘿᘉᗩᒪ
The echoing whispers are only marginally louder and clearer outside of their gemstone tomb. They pause for a moment, head lifted as high as they tries to hone in on the source. Nothing else matters, not any other gembound that may be investigating, not the jarring hot-cold that shocks their ectothermic body. Only that faint, whispering call that drew it towards consciousness.
[Also note to theory-hunting people: all the spooky text in this post is just copy-pasted from the starter post of this thread. Ignore it]
Coilean was in the area, because the rocks here was a different taste than normal, and he wanted to remember what exactly that difference was. He was a connoisseur, you see, looking to compare and contrast. But like the others, he was led astray by a faint cry on the wind, muffled by distance and... Pain.
It was scared, it was hurting. He suppressed an instinctual whimper, an urge to call for someone who wouldn't - couldn't - come to comfort him. Coilean sighed deep, breathing in the tunnel's strange air, and began to approach its source.
A pawful of others had heard the noise, all bipeds funnily enough. He tapped his blades together, unsure of what to say or where to place himself, until he saw a tiny shape on the jagged rock. He noted secondly the remains of a chrysalis nearby, and his heart jumped into action.
"Oh! Baby! There's a baby!"
Obviously not the source, but worthy of attention, maybe moreso. He padded up to Eulogy, retracting further the closer he got, becoming as small as he could.
"Hiii. Are you okay? Are you safe? What's your name?"
@Eulogy (tag for interaction)
