ORIGIN

Tucked into a hidden alcove between the trees, a tiny chrysalis shivered and cracked. The little creature inside stretched and strained, beak tapping blindly at the walls, before they finally gave way and it tumbled out.

Larkspur was given a gentle welcome into the world: the soil soft underfoot cradling her oh-so-carefully, the warm glow of labradorite waystones illuminating the gnarled roots that tangled along either side. To one direction lay Pegasus, where--though she didn't know it--endless meadows and a clear river would invite her to make herself at home, if she wished.

But what's this? To the other direction, there came all sorts of sounds. Shouting, music, laughing, the bustling of games and machines and the scent of animals and food. The baby tree swallow's head turned, her eyes fixed on the Carnival tents a short distance away. People! She would like people, she thought. Where other people were would surely be where she belonged as well.

She responded to the noise with her own series of rapid, high chirps and scrambled to join them. Little feet pushed off on the soft soil and she shot into the air in a flurry of brown wings.

Carnival, here she comes!

The path to the carnival wound and twisted, and before long Larkspur would find that if she looked back, she would no longer be able to find the way out. But why would she look back? She was just following the music and the laughter, the cheery jingle with just a few odd notes sprinkled in.

Finally the path opened up to a sprawling expanse of stalls and games, tents and rides. The multicolored lights were overwhelming. Larkspur twisted, flitted back and forth, trying to take in everything. Where to go? Then a voice called out beneath him. He folded his wings and dove, pulling up at the last second to land beside the one who had spoken.

"Hello." she repeated Worm's own words back to him, staring up unabashedly. So big! And so featherless. She looked down and ran his bill quickly through her own wing feathers before looking back up. What was it like to not have any? And did the whole world seem smaller from his point of view?

What was this place? Hell if Larkspur knew. She had known the world for all of five minutes, after all. But Larkspur was a quick learner. At Worm's question, she took another look around, first from the ground and then flitting up to land carefully on the thorny stem of a nearby bush. Tiny claws carefully grasped perfectly in-between vicious-looking thorns to give the swallow fledgling a secure hold.

"I don't know!" she answered finally. "But I think there's lots of food." Though the sugary and fried treats available weren't a tree swallow's usual diet, some instinct told her that they were edible. And might even be delicious. "And things that spin and move with people perched on them. They look fun," she added, watching a train of connected carts go careening off its tracks, do a flip mid-air, and somehow land safely back down again. How thrilling!

Having had no previous experience with mammal (or any animal) facial expressions, it completely flew over Larkspur's head that Worm was sneering at her. She thought his wrinkly twisted visage was just the way he was born (which it partially was). "And you're really big," she returned, "and featherless. And you have four legs." She didn't really mean anything by it. She thought that if Worm was making observations about her, perhaps it was the thing to do to reciprocate? "Huh. I never really worried about that before. I think I'd just fly away." Besides: "There's a lot of food here. Why would they want to eat me?" It seemed a lot easier and quite possibly more enjoyable to eat something all battered up, seasoned, and fried to a crisp than a little bird covered in feathers, raw.

Larkspur blinked innocently. "Does screaming mean they're not having fun?"

That important question out of the way, she could turn her attention to the matter of food. "Hm... I don't know what I eat! I've never eaten anything before. But I don't think I could gobble you up. I don't think you'd fit in my mouth." Somehow, instinctively, Larkspur knew that a mouth was for eating. "Maybe we should try some of this other food. That way if it's good, we won't have to worry about someone gobbling us up. And if it's bad, we know that we should watch out." She scanned the food stalls from the vantage point of the thorny stem she was perched on and decided on one that was selling a crunchy-looking, brown-colored fried food in paper bags: churros, though Larkspur didn't know what the name was. Somehow, instinctively, again, Larkspur thought that brown-colored crunchy-looking things would taste good. At least, it seemed more appealing than the other closest stall, which was selling some kind of multicolored fluffy cloud on sticks.

"I'm gonna try that one!" Larkspur announced, and launched herself from her perch to flit over to the churro stall. The carnie behind it grinned down at her. "Aw, aren't you tiny," it said, tossing her several pieces of churro torn just small enough for Larkspur to eat, which she promptly did.

Hm. Crunchy. Sweet. A taste that promised disproportionately plentiful calories. Larkspur's eyes widened. "It's good!" she called to Worm. "No one's gonna eat us with this stuff around! Come try it."

Scary! Being scared! What did that feel like? Larkspur had never experienced the emotion before. "Maybe I'll try it anyway," she mused. "It might be interesting."

More perplexing than the feeling of fear was Worm's reaction to the churros. They were good! Larkspur had tried them herself! "I wasn't," she answered, bewildered. "I thought they were good. They were sweet! And crunchy!" She looked around the carnival. There were multiple other food stalls with very different food selections. Maybe differently-shaped Gembound had different tastes, and that's why they were there--to cater to all the different possibilities?

"Maybe it's because your mouth is wide and soft?" Larkspur suggested. Hers was small and pointy and hard. "Maybe you should try a food that's wide and soft, too. I'm sure we can find something!"