ORIGIN

He awoke upon impact, the lukewarm surface of the cave floor jolting against his curved spine. Obsidian eyes sprang open in shock, only to narrow into slits at the dagger-like shards of light that pricked at his pupils like slivers of glass. A gasp racked the child's lungs, baptized in the light of existence as he struggled to comprehend just what had happened - where was he, who was he? Carefully, shakily, the babe raised his head from the stone, at last noting the various pieces of shimmering stone that were spread about his thin frame.

Were those the arms that had held him so gently in his sleep? Had he been sleeping at all? What had come before this?

Was there anything?

Shivers clawed their way over the fawn's pristine white coat, the absence of the chrysalis' warmth woefully apparent. Narrowed gaze traced the lines of his body, noting the jutting skeleton and the cloven hooves, the tucked ivory tail and the coarse pelt of snow; what was he, and was he the only one here? Overlarge ears perked forward and swiveled about, picking up the faint melody of running water and something fainter, less musical - voices? A burbling grunt fell from his lips as he strained toward standing, a seemingly futile attempt at controlling the muscles about his legs enough to balance upright.

With a monstrous effort, the babe placed both forward hooves upon the ground, now all that was left was to overcome gravity with musculature that had known absolutely nothing of the outside world until mere moments ago.

Joy.

Another gasp burst from the boy as he shoved himself to standing, swaying precariously upon his own four hooves, each leg splayed about in a poor attempt to remain aloft. Breathing heavily, the fawn felt his heart pounding within his chest, the flimsy thing beating against the cage of his ribs with reckless abandon. Slowly, he widened his eyes, finding that the soft light of the crystals and mosses were far more gentle than previously thought. Looking about, the child's gaze lit with curiosity and wonder - what place had he awoken in? What sort of land existed in such muted beauty?

Lips tugged upward into a grin, four baby teeth shining in the dim light.

With a deep breath and a determined huff, the child decided that it was time to see what else could be lurking within the shadowy confines of the cavern. Trembling, Morthos - now that was strange, was that his name? Where did that sense of self come from? He shook his head, there would be time to dwell on such things after he had seen what there was to discover. The fawn slowly raised his front right leg, slamming it down mere inches forward as gravity fought against his weakened frame. Nodding to himself, his face a mask of solemn determination, the pale deer carefully moved his back left leg in the same fashion, though the movement was slightly less panicked.

Yes, he could do this.

Eyeing an outcropping of glowing crystal roughly three meters away, Morthos took a breath and silenced his doubts, a stubborn pride flaring in that oblivion gaze of his - it was time to walk.

The going was not graceful, but the going had gone.

Stumbling and tripping toward the outcropping, Morthos had barely caught himself before face planting into the stone on multiple occasions, but as he jolted to a stop before the gently pulsing cluster, his thin chest swelled with pride. He had done it! Yes, it had been messy and rather far from pretty or graceful, but the boy had done it, and for that, he was glad. Fuzzy tail lifting in response to his joy, the pale fawn took a moment to delight in his small victory; he had, after all, fallen out of what seemed to be a stone chrysalis mere minutes before learning not just how to stand, but to walk.

Head held high upon his stringy neck, the lad straightened his stance as much as he could without falling over, noting with no small satisfaction that his grasp of his coordination was slowly but surely improving. With another encouraging nod to himself, Morthos locked on to his newest target - a series of moss covered stones, burning bright beneath the comforting darkness of the cavern. From there, if he was successful in making the trek, the lad would aim for the sound of that rushing water, to see what there was to see and maybe even meet someone to test out what he was sure was a very squeaky and pitiful voice.

It was go time.

So focused was he on conquering the task he had set for himself upon shaky legs and stubborn pride, that the deerling didn't notice the arrival of another until her melodic voice burst through the relative silence. He jolted, the surprise of it all nearly knocking him away from the precarious control that he held over his limbs. Clumsily, the pale child swung his head toward the voice, finding that it came from a rather small and rather deerlike creature, a jagged stone jutting from her forehead and her eyes glittering with something like kindness in the growing light of the cavern.

It took Morthos a few moments to process what she had said, to think on her words and shove his brain into the realm of verbal understanding. At last, though, the words spoken by the stranger brought a smile to the child's lips, those four baby teeth glinting in the gloom. Carefully, he nodded, raising a leg and setting it back down with as much gentle control as he could muster - a showcase of his excitement, of his pride. Cocking his head to the side, the ivory fawn gave in to his curiosity, noting the mushrooms that sprung up from beneath the tiny lass' hooves and left a trail in her cheerful wake - how did she do that? Did one learn it like learning to walk?

He needed to know.

Taking a breath, the boy attempted to speak, vocal chords straining against what they didn't know.

.....PART ONE, PLEASE STAND BY FOR ATTEMPT RESULTS

What came out of the child's mouth was a far cry from words.

A mournful lowing fell from his lips, the sound thin and pitiful and punctuated with various cracks. Brow knitting together in frustration, the fawn gazed imploringly at the tiny stranger, his oblivion eyes filling to the brim with shame and worry - would he never be able to speak? Was he doomed to live upon a planet where even basic communication was a luxury not afforded to him? He hung his head, downcast at the idea of failure of what seemed to be such a basic task.

To soothe himself, the boy raised his leg again, holding it aloft for as long as possible before pressing his hoof gently back down to the stone floor of the cave, a silent reminder that he wasn't entirely useless - not yet. Heaving a sigh, Morthos raised his head enough to fix the kindly stranger within his depthless gaze once more, a small, sad smile curving at blackened lips. Offering a careful nod, the fawn took a stumbling step closer to the lass, a spark of joy lifting his spirits if only enough to try speaking again.

This time, this time it had to work.

~~~

Miraculously, a strained, soft voice filled the air between them, feminine in pitch, but it was a voice all the same. His voice.

"They are. I'm... Morthos," His own name tasted odd upon his tongue, the curiosity and befuddlement surrounding the sudden bursts of self and understanding still whirling about within the babe's skull. Was there some sort of upper consciousness that ruled each mind subconsciously? A tentative hive mind that interwove the understanding and the knowledge of the universe and distributed it through the masses? He shook his head, not prepared to dwell on ideals of such magnitude.

"Glad meeting you."

Yes, he would have to put the possibility of an interwoven conscious unity aside until he was able to master communication.