ORIGIN

I'm a collector of rare things...
He had spent his whole life surrounded by green. The green of the crystalline shell that cradled him, the barest scent of green living things that had begun to filter through the thinning walls around him. He shifted within the gem, claws and beak scraping against the smooth curves. 'Soon,' he thought. 'Soon it will be time.' But time for what. Of that, he wasn't quite sure yet.

He tapped his beak against the crystal again, and this time was greeted by a different sound than the normal, almost musical tinkling. This was a sharper sound, a crackling, creaking sound and followed by a gust of earthy scented air. The smell woke something in him, and with a great twist of his head, he broke through the chrysalis. Assaulted by the sight of even more green around him, he took a moment to stretch his newborn wings, featherless appendages that they were, and breathe in the smell of dirt and soil, strength and solidity.

Maybe one day, I'll collect you...

 :

it's feeling like a new day
As she became older, she was turning into slightly less of a clutz. Slightly. She was still prone to tripping over her feet, but she was growing into them, as well as learning how to best use the long, heavy tail that trailed behind her as a rudder, to help keep her balance. Sometimes though, you just wanted to RUN! And that's what she was doing now, running through the tunnels that connected her haunts in Polaris to the other caves in the labyrinthine underground system , her crystal claws clicking loudly with each step.

Eventually, she found herself in a cave full of plant life. It smelled strongly of dirt and dampness, and she wrinkled her nose, deciding to make her way out as quickly as possible. At least, that had been the plan, until she came across a recently cracked chrysalis, still damp and smelling vaguely of it's previous occupant. She sniffed curiously, wondering what kind of creature had hatched out of it into a land of green plants and wet earth. So intent on her exploration of the shell, she lost track of everything else around her.

time for you to come out and play

I'm a collector of rare things...
A day or two had seen his feathers fluff and bald spots fill in. Soon he would no doubt he sporting true feathers, and not these downy pinquills. But for now, he would take what he had. He had gathered up a pile of fallen leaves and other dead plant matter into a makeshift nest on a ledge overlooking his former shell, and was busily counting out a pile of tiny crystal shards he had been collecting.

From the arrangement and number he had found together, he suspected it was an old chrysalis, forgotten over time and broken into near dust by the passage of many feet. It mattered not though, for the crystals were shiny, and easily gathered, easily collected. Satisfied with his loot, he turned his attention to the cave below him.

There was a stranger investigating his chrysalis. That.... that would not do. He clicked his beak in frustration. Right now, he couldn't do anything. He was hardly large enough or impressive enough to make the much larger thing go away. But maybe... wait, maybe there was something he could try. He drew in a deep breath, the smell of earth and soil. All around him was power. He merely have to focus on who he wanted to use that power against.

His emerald green eyes narrowed, and he glared down at the creature who dared disturb his former home. He felt the earth begin to tremble, and directed it to the cat. 'Now you will face power, stranger. Now you will learn fear, and respect. Now, you will leave my home in peace!'

Maybe one day, I'll collect you...

 :

what's happening around me
She was still sniffing when the ground began moving beneath her feet. Startled, she jumped up, nearly landing on the chrysalis she had been exploring. She watched as the pebbles about her jittered and leapt with jaunty abandon. Nervously, she began to back away from the area. She hadn't really wanted to stay around here anyway, she'd only been distracted by the chrysalis. Unfortunately, the shivering ground did not help with her clumsiness, and she soon found herself tumbling head over tail, knocking herself into a wall with a great thump. She used the wall as a solid point to brace herself, and stumbled her way towards one of the small streams nearby. Hopefully the water would be a little less terrifying than the moving earth.

the world's going for a spin

I'm a collector of rare things...
He was pleased. His little show of power seemed to be working, and the cat thing was retreating quickly, though he doubted as fast as she could. However, this led to another problem, as she bumped into the wall his nest was perched on. He let out a loud angry squawking cry as his carefully tended piles of stones shivered, then collapsed, many of them falling off the ledge to rain down around the cat.

That tore it. Slowly, he descended from his perch. Flight was not in his repertoire, not yet. He couldn't wait until it was. This cat would have another thing coming to her then. Hissing with anger, he marched towards the frightened cat, who was even now still trying to make her escape. Nope, no escape now. Not after what she had done. Finally, she was corned. He rose up to his greatest height, fluffed out his feathers to their maximum, and angrily shouted at the cat in a half coherent screech.

My Collection! You've ruined it! Destroyed it! Ruined! How dare you?! How could you?! Where are you going? What are you doing? Who are you?

Maybe one day, I'll collect you...

The faint and distant sense of magic somewhere not far off caught the plague horse's attention. He'd been slowly picking his way through the jungle, quiet, lost in his own thoughts; now he swerved in his travels, angling instead toward the magic nearby. That, and the screeching, the squawking.

He'd been watching quite a few of the other inhabitants of Eridanus leave the area. Watching Booker. He had not spoken, nor approached him; he had simply watched, unseen and unnoticed in the shadows beneath the trees. But these two youngsters--they were strangers. Khloros had no reason to hide himself from them.

The faint sense of life he'd been sucking from the plants around him faded; it took focus, and he could not yet both pay attention to his surroundings, and to the magic. Instead he stepped out and looked over the scraggly young bird--and the snow leopard cub, thin and narrow head tilting.

For now, he would only watch, unless they happened to notice him; it was best to make sure they did not kill one another before they had even had the chance to grow.

________________

BRING OUT YOUR DEAD

 :

i'm completely overloaded
Fleeing the shaking earth and falling stones was instinct. Running away, well, she did that best it seemed. But really, she didn't want any more notches in her ears, or burned feet, and she definitely did not want to get hit in the head by a falling rock. So, when her paws hit the water of the stream, and she was about to breathe a sigh of relief, until a screech behind her made to cower down into the water.

The sound was coming from a very small, very scrawny, fluffed up, pipsqueak of a bird. Her ears flattened as he squawked and cried at her, his speech barely understandable to her. She managed to understand some of it, "collection" and "ruined" seemed to make up the most of his complaints. She had no clue what he was talking about. She was going to try and respond to him when motion caught her eye. She turned to look better, and immediately regretted it.

The motion belonged to a huge creature, monstrously large despite its thinness, and most horrifying to her, it appeared to be rotting away in front of her. She wanted to panic, she wanted to flee, but couldn't. She felt rooted to the ground, as if the earth had sucked her down and wouldn't release her. So she did the only other thing she could think of, she wailed pathetically and passed out.

and this is where i stop

I'm a collector of rare things...
He was pleased that the cat creature looked terrified. Good. It would keep her away from his collections, away from his nest, away from everything that was his. But then... then something happened. She cried out, and then, she collapsed. He tipped his head, wondering what had happened. Had he frighted her that badly? She was so much larger than he, yet she had fallen so easily. He hopped closer, and nudged the inert pile of fur. It didn't respond. What had he done? What if had killed the cat thing?

He hopped back and forth for a bit, studying the fallen Gembound, before finally deciding there was little he could do. He turned to return to his aerie, only to find another stranger, equally large, equally threatening, and... phew.... what was that smell!? He flared himself up, regretting that he wasn't somewhere higher where he could look this thing directly in the face. Craning his head up made him feel small, and he didn't like that. But, he wasn't about to ACT like he felt small.

Another one? Where are you all coming from? I made sure nobody ever came this way when I settled in, and now, it's like everyone is walking though. Who are you? What do you want?

Maybe one day, I'll collect you...

Khloros watched as the little cub peered up at him--and before he could greet her, she simply collapsed. He stared for a moment, nonplussed, and then the small squawking fluff of an eagle was chattering at him.

Nonsense words. A child, angry, jealous, fluffing out half-grown feathers over territory.

The horse eyed him, then disregarded him, indifferent. Instead he approached the feline, his gait slow and careful, picking his way over the vegetation. He paused near her, lowering his long and narrow head to sniff at her. Had the eagle sickened her? Had that magic been some sort of attack that was draining her life away, even now?

"You did not harm her? You are too young to be killing, yet," the horse rasped, slowly, at last.

For a moment he lifted pale, lamplike eyes to blink at Rook; then he lowered his head again, calling on his magic, attempting to sense whether Lyrastrae was ill in some way. He could feel, like a second sight, the buzzing of tiny organisms throughout her--like a million million stars, glittering pinpricks of light swarming within. But they were not overwhelming; in fact they were healthy, or so it seemed to him.

Not sick, then, I think.

Then what was wrong with her?

The horse lowered his head again, gently blowing air from his nostrils onto the cat, trying to nudge her back awake. His motions were soft, delicate, despite the rancid stench of his coat.

________________

BRING OUT YOUR DEAD

I'm a collector of rare things...
He continued his angry tirade at the toxic smelling creature, redoubling his efforts as it turned to him. Then, it turned away. Rook didn't now how to take that, and found himself deflating. Obviously, this one had no interest in his things. Maybe he could let him be for now. The little eagle watched as the horse thing approached the cat. She was what it was interested in then? Curious, he settled himself to watch, trying not to look like he was watching.

The Gembond's words both comforted the eagle, and confused him. He hadn't harmed the cat, but the thought that he was too young to do so. Did that mean he might be expected to when older? He didn't know what to think about that. The thought was filed away though, as he watched the horse look her over, then nose at her, much as he himself had. He couldn't help but attempt a jab at the creature, even though he knew it seemed to be trying to help her out.

You know, that didn't work for me. Why do you think it might work for you? For all I know, you did it, you and that... whatever that is that smell so bad.

Maybe one day, I'll collect you...