ORIGIN - Out of the crooked timber of humanity, no straight thing was ever made.

Himmel.

CJ said, "Let baby out," and the Lepidolite egg erupted from where it was wedged against the bottom of a kiddy pool, and with the unmitigated power of physics bestowed by the waterfall, cleaved in two. The container splintered in to fragments of shimmering purple which was thereafter washed throughout Pisces by the current, depositing the remains of the chrysalis in smaller pools throughout, which glimmered like dying constellations as the residual magicka dispersed.

Meanwhile the puerile offering was pummelled by that same force leaking from the ceiling, and woke to the raging of the universe around it. The deer could not even scream for all the water around it. The concussive force of the water pushed it to the bottom of their birthing pool and refused to let them rise. As the newborn unfurled its tucked limbs and bade to swim for safety they were met with the pounding chaos from above.

Himmel.

It was not long before he realized how futile this struggle was. Not even an hour old and he was struggling against the current of the universe - he had not even taken a breath of air, which may have been a blessing in disguise. There was no pressure in his lungs, no burn from the oxygen and carbon dioxide fighting an autonomic process which had yet to awaken. He drifted. The pounding of the falls overhead was not so dangerous if he kept to the bottom of the pool.

The newborn probed at the walls of his new confines. It had not been enough to lock him away in the stone, evidently. Now he was trapped in water, and somehow he knew this was not right. He did not swim well; his legs were long thin and tipped with sharp toes, and as he tested his kicks against the wall of the pool he found those toes chipped away at their surroundings pretty well. The rush of the water forced him down and away from the real danger; he only had a few seconds to try and find a way out in the deep dark of this ancient well.

There were nooks and crannies that he could feel with his toes, and he kicked at them, or clawed with forelimbs splaying; his skin was going numb from the temperature. He did not notice the scrapes and bruises forming all over his legs and torso as he flailed. A few precise strikes and a piece of the wall - thinned after an aeon of erosion - gave way.

The water shifted to follow this new path and he was swept along in the current. One smaller pool after another, following the route that his chrysalis shards had gone. Tumbling end over end, tucking his legs back up against his little belly. Where he'd end up was anyone's guess - dead or alive, he was on the move.