ORIGIN

Fitting for a king and a corvid to be hatched on high.

Fragments of an intriguing form of meteorite came clambering down the side of the rock wall of Monoceros. Clatter and clamber of hard stone against stone could only echo for a short while, as gusts and tirades of wind patrolled the area at random, casting rogue sounds into random corners where no hears existed to hear them wail.

And what was the cause of the showering of these pieces, shattered and taken from their whole by the clutches of gravity? Why, surprisingly enough, it was a small hatchling bird. A baby, new and slick with the fluid of life. With a hard head and an iron will, it had finally managed to crash through its tough prison. The display of newfound strength had shoved some small bits of the old chrysalis off the side of where the hatchling had found itself. Which was, by the way, on a platform, close to the ceiling of the great and terrible cave. The only paths down from here were either following the fate of those chrysalis shards, or taking a perilously narrow road that led all the way to the bottom.

Lo and behold, a dramatic and tragic entrance for a rather dramatic and tragic creature-to-be.

The birth location was rather fortunate for this specific gembound. Hot air dripped from the vents in this spot, causing warmth to flood his heart despite being slippery and wet from hatching. He shook himself off. No classic raven call had left his distinctively large beak yet. For now, the showering of bits of meteorite upon the ground far below would be the only tell of his entrance into the world. The constant pulse of heat, the air of mild discretion, these were elements he might gain a proclivity towards in the... nearer future.

The raven boy would wait a while, shuddering and hopping about. Trying to figure out movement. Finding that out was his responsibility now, his first conscious step into life. The subconscious portion of his mind had already handled the breathing, heart beating part. It had been doing that for a while now. With his mind released from the cage of darkness and sleep, those two parts of his mind could function together, hand in hand, as a well-oiled machine. All living beings were quite similar to machines, were they not? Littles cogs and wheels, seemingly unrelated, clinking and clacking together to make something... move.

The little bird hopped towards the nearby wall. Impenetrable stone, menacing and painful to look up at. This creature's first act of intelligence... would be ramming his itty bitty head into it.

A hit!

Unsolid, wobbly, and entirely insignificant. The wall was, indeed, hit. With minimal force.

Ow.

The little raven stumbled back a bit. Why had it done that? Ah, a question I see! The first accidental stumble into true intelligent thinking. The questioning of 'why'.

He would back away, hobbling his way towards the side of the ledge where he'd hatched from. He peered over it, and then over at his chrysalis. His chrysalis hadn't been on the teetering edge, but by golly it had been close! Had he come out the wrong end, he surely would've had to deal with that hefty fall. He looked back over the ledge, to examine that threat of a 'hefty fall'. It was in this moment, one of the first moments the child would experience fully and one of the first moments he would forget once he'd grown, that he suddenly understood and feared death.

He backed away from the ledge.

Learning sure was a funny thing! Well, surely no lessons could continue up on this inconvenient ledge. The little raven ought to tumble down now, yes? And, just something to be mindful of in accordance to your last lesson: DO NOT LOOK DOWN.

Leaving the warmth would be unfortunate, but perhaps the little raven would return later on.

For... reasons.

Bit by bit, the raven would travel, until it finally came to somewhere... else...

- exit -