ORIGIN

Tip-tap, tip-tap, tip-tap. Adeyemi hobbled along the tunnel floor, staring at its walls, puffing under his breath. His talons dragged on stone just enough to create a tiny scritch-scritch sound, echoing through the air like dull bells. This tunnel, it was familiar - the one he and Willow had traveled through, twice.

Cooing under his breath, the turaco puffed up against the cold, unconsciously picking up the pace. It was silly to be worried. He'd lost track of her before; she could take care of herself, obviously. That did little to soothe his troubles, and the king clicked his beak, half his mind on just turning around and fleeing back to the relative comfort of his son. The cub was growing, maturing, speech flowing like honey, regal and royal - a true prince, if there ever was one.

Pride tugged at his heartstrings, and for a moment, Adeyemi turned to glance back over his shoulder, unsure of his choice. Didn't Alexander need him more? He was a father, now; he had more responsibilities than his own inability to keep track of his... friend. Friend... hm. The term of a coward. But the king was well aware of his own cowardice. He'd had so many chances, too many, to simply tell Willow how he felt. Each time, he'd put it off, assured in his endless time for that particular discussion.

But the days were flying by into weeks, and even his son couldn't truly cure the ache in his gut, the sick nausea that accompanied not being certain of just where the other half of his soul was, whether she was safe, whether she'd been caught up in whatever had Gembounds scattering from Polaris like ants from their hill.

Humming his song under his breath, Adeyemi peered about, taking stock of the tunnel's inhabitants - or lack thereof, as the case may have been. The Carvings, as mysterious now as they had been to him as a chick, caught his eye, and the bird scuttled over to them, raising his gemstone talon in a mirror of his youth, tracing the markings reverently.

A soft noise caught his ear, and Adeyemi turned on a dime, wings raised, ready to fight - but his eyes widened, his shoulders dropped, his song rose at the sight of Willow, so beautifully alive, nesting in the wall opposite to the Carvings. He almost called out then, but she did seem to be trying to sleep, so instead he carefully picked his way across the tunnel, scaling the wall as quietly as possible, talons gripping the stone and carrying him up.

He made it to her nest eventually, hopping close enough to peer at her with a soft, unconscious coo, before stepping a bit closer, grooming at the back of her neck. Safe. She is safe.