ORIGIN - Second Chances

The soft crack awoke him. Ember eyes drifted open, glowing softly, and looked out at what appeared to be a glimmering field of fire, darkened--though, he had never seen fire, before.

A gentle, instinctive push, and the crack split. The sharp, instinctive inhale was water, fluid, and he choked; a moment's struggle and he'd fallen free.

Ember was, upon hatching, some five or six feet long; his bulk hauled itself with the glimmer of white scales and the dull hues of wet, white fur. It was a heavy movement, and when he fell over and out of the broken portion of shell, he hit the ground wet. He pushed up, shaking weakly, body not used to movement. His puppy head, little horn nubs atop it, wavered as he struggled to look up.

Instinct reached for magic. No magic came. Instead he lay there, blinking and coughing, struggling to fight the fluids away and to see the world around him--blind to his own wondrous existence.

Sorry for the delay, I was sick all day ;(

@Mercy @Temperance

Ember wasn't the only one to awaken that day.

The cub- fawn? Cub. The cub on the other hand, the second of those to hatch, was much smaller. About the average size of a newborn deer.

Temperance broke free and tumbled to the ground, their chest rising and falling rapidly as they took a moment to adjust to the light of outside and the fact that they were suddenly very cold compared to their chrysalis. They mewed and staggered, trying to get to their feet, instincts warring with one another.

Their legs were fully prepared to carry them, but the rest of their body seemed determined that such a thing wasn't possible yet, that their eyes should remain shut and their ears closed. Helplessness and independence clashed immediately, and it was a fight to get up, their tail lashing as they rose up, squinting around at everything.

Black fur was immediately apparent, as well as a distinctly cat-like body, though the cub had strangely long legs and longer ears. An odd blend of deer and leopard, predator and prey occupying the same body.

A loud, insistent cry erupted from their throat as they stood there, unwilling to take another step forward as they wobbled and shook, unsteady. They didn't immediately see anything, as they were turned away from Ember, and having hatched after them, hadn't heard them either. As far as they were concerned, they were very alone and did not like that, and were going to make their displeasure known.

@Ember :0 your tag didnt work
Oh no!! feel better :(((

The first crack! was a heralding trumpet, and he was the (supposed) angel that heeded its call; his pace quickened from where he was already returning, chin dripping-wet with a drink.

As the chrysalises' prescribed due date ticked steadily closer, Mercy'd worked to ensure everything was just so—that the greenery was fresh and soft, tender shoots for the children's first meal; that there were a great deal of flowers, baubled or not, littering the place to provide an unfettering light. It wasn't quite a grove to the scale of his in Eridanus, but it had been fast-approaching.

Now, it surged with warmth and life.

Rounded ears cupped forward at the darker cub's plaintive cries, and he made for them first. He let a bass hum rumble from his throat as he made his approach—the babe's eyes being the first thing he noticed—and he cooed a soft, "well, hello there..." A large paw oh-so-gently ushered the cub to sit back down, and he lowered his head to lap at their back. This one's adorable, and perhaps already a handful.

Then, the other: coughing and hacking up fluids. Mercy extended a paw to him, too, and deserted the first for just a moment; he grappled for a spiny nape and drew the pup closer to his sibling. He ran his rough tongue up the white pup's back, too—against the grain of the fur, like one massages circles into the back of someone ill.

"There, little one," he murmured between rasping licks, "get it all out." The pale beast shifted so that the dark cub was pressed into his mane, to seek whatever warmth and company they desired while he was tending to their sibling.

Idly, a firefly flickered into his view, dancing around the three of them and further illuminating their little pocket of Orion.
@Ember

He wasn't aware of Temperance's existence until the loud mew overrode his own hacking coughing. Eyes blinked fluid away as he turned, sight seeking out the source of this newest sound. Two brief instincts flickered up: one a friendly curiosity, the other the unknown, as-yet confusing thread of predatory instinct that told him that a small, crying thing might be food. But he didn't really know what that meant, only the feeling of it, and after a moment's confused consideration he let that feeling go. Instead friendly curiosity bloomed into sort of brotherly affection as he staggered up and started toward the sound.

Then, Mercy's shape--something his mind blankly classified as Large-White-Thing--appeared, sweeping past and lifting the Small-Crying-Thing. He hadn't even really spotted Temperance yet, but he could hear the sounds, and as blurry new eyesight clarified he could see that Mercy had picked up the crying cub and was--what, eating it?

He let out a squeak of protest--that wasn't right, the Large-White-Thing shouldn't kill the Small-Crying-Thing; that felt wrong, somehow! It wasn't fair!

Ember's squeak was also distinctly draconic; there was little mammalian in the sound. It was more the chirp of an alarmed baby alligator than the whimper of a wolf. Tiny claws pressed into the rock as he changed course, heading for Mercy. He had no idea how to fight, or how he could possibly stop the Unfair Eating going on over there, but as it turned out he didn't have to concern himself about it. Instead, the Large-White-Thing swept down and ate him, too-!

Wait... no, this wasn't eating. Baby's instinct flickered up. Parent carries, it informed him, a truth among both his father species. He fell still as he was placed beside Temperance, and after a moment of confused, clumsy glancing about, he stumbled up (and fell back down on his haunches) closer to the black cub.

Ember inspected Temperance. They looked safe, at least--unharmed--and the Large-White-Thing now seemed a comforting presence, instead of an alarming one.

Ember squeaked again, forcing himself back up onto awkward, oversized feet. Mercy was speaking, and he blinked ember eyes up at him. Canine jaws worked for a moment, Ember's expression studious--and then he half-whispered (and partly-coughed) his very first words.

"Little One," he repeated, and then fell back on his haunches beside his sibling, comforted by the touch of what his mind now classified as "Mom."

@Temperance

Temperance let out a weak hiss as they were pushed back down, wiggling in protest as they were subjected to Mercy's mercy. They'd just gotten up! Now they'd have to struggle all over again.

They shook their head, ears flopping around as they stared into white fur, unable to gain details as of yet. The rough tongue along their back was comforting, though, both halves of them agreeing that a warm tongue meant parent and therefore that they were safe.

They heard the Galaga noises from behind and swiveled their head, spotting more white fur and another large shape. They flinched as their sibling was subjected to licking too, and took the opportunity to wobble forward, falling onto their chest and mewling as they felt soft fur on their nose. They focused on the feeling for a moment, their nose scrunching up as a very weird feeling welled up in their chest.

Temperance sneezed.

They spooked in alarm, crying out with fright. They meekly crawled towards their larger sibling and snuggled into the warmth of the other's fur, their hind legs awkwardly splayed behind them. They nuzzled their face into soft fur and mewled, seeking attention from their sibling, aching for cuddles and warmth. If their parent (they assumed Mercy was such) attended to Temperance instead, that would also be fine, they weren't picky about who doted on them as of yet.

@Mercy

A strange sort of noise escaped the larger of the cubs, jowls peeling back to allow it out; pearly whites caught the light, and Mercy wondered—should I have… brought prey? (He continued to lap at furs as he ventured down the path he'd laid out for himself.) A coil of nausea stutter-stepped through his mind at that, the mere implication of performing his own hunt. One of Pride's Seven would have surely done so at his request, but still then, the ramifications would weigh heavy on him.

Yet, it was unfair. Azizos and Arsu had emerged with an affinity for plants, despite their incisors and canines—perhaps the point of one's teeth did not betray their needs.

Mercy put that on hold, though, to give the white cub a gentle smile: "that's you." Inky lips tilted up, head canting off to one side, "not so much of a name, though, is it?" The old lion hummed softly.

In a reach practiced time and time again by the parents of these caves, the storyteller reached for the pupling's mind first, giving abstract knowledge a sort of… decipherable shape as he spoke: "do you have a name… ?"

He did the same, too, for the littler cub mewling and squirming for warmth. Mercy pulled them closer, tongue rapping against the grain of downy hide; his magic reaching out and planting little seeds of name-based knowledge.
@Ember

Ember's ears pricked up, tiny pup face staring at Mercy in awe as the words trickled through his mind. And they were his; the magical touch was as gentle as the physical.

The little cry he gave was another useless sound, a pert BLEP? sort of noise, but then he (after stumbling up and falling clumsily back to his haunches) focused. The idea of fire was there--but he was small. "Small fire" wasn't exactly a name, but "Ember" was as yet a word beyond him.

He put the idea to Mercy, though. His identity was a fire. But a little one, because, well... he was little (for now). Ember's attention was rapt on the lion, and his blurted "MOM" as he staggered was vaguely aimed at Mercy's face. Then he sort of tottered toward him before falling back on unsteady paws again.

Gaze shifted to his black sibling: had the other also been asked-? What was their name?

@Temperance

Temperance was given a name that was both out of their understanding and too big and complicated to say. They tested out their words, babbling nonsense softly before managing to gather their consonants and syllables enough to blurt it out.

"TEMP-RUNCE!", they shouted, their speech not very eloquent yet.

Temperance, to show restraint. To hold oneself back... but why? Why would anyone hold themselves back?

"Mom?", they asked, peering over at Ember and then at Mercy, "Mom!"

That seemed right! Mom was the perfect word for Mercy, it fit like a glove. But with an attention span about as vast as the eye of a needle, he started to clamber out of the lion's paws, wishing to explore and see the world he'd tumbled into.

Paws flopped on the ground as he stood shakily, head raised as he looked around. Dirt... stone... everything was washes of grey and brown, and it was a bit underwhelming at first. At least until he noticed a little bug crawling along the floor, instincts telling him to slap and chase it. So of course he did, toddling after the small beetle, not very fast yet but getting there.

@Mercy

The link had alerted him straightaway; Mercy had been watching the stones and Pride, in Eridanus grazing. Granted, Mercurius had been so kind as to plant a garden here--but it was still young, yet, and he didn't want to overgraze. There was no way for the white lion to keep up with his appetite, and--well, anyway, here he was: a panting white stag, breaths heaving from an open mouth, hooves clicking on the rock.

Only one of the children was his; and as he slowed, he looked physically upon it for the first time. He'd caught glimpses through the link, via Mercy's summons, and that had been amazing enough: a near mirror of Nassir, with the hint of what might be--or become?--antlers. But to see it in person was something else entirely, and Pride came to a halt a little distance away, wide-eyed.

He was still catching his breath when he got a good look at the other one: draconic, lupine, not at all unlike Fireheart with... dragon-like parts. Of course--fitting, he thought; he didn't know why he was surprised, or what he had expected. A black wolf with spikes? A white dragon? Well, here it was, a perfect hybrid of the two, and something that he felt--that he hoped--was true to Fireheart's short-lived legacy. As the black cub was for Nassir.

Bittersweet.

He missed them. And here was new life, new children, in their image. It was warming to see, and it stung, too, and Pride paused in the mire of his own emotions as his lungs stilled and his flanks stopped heaving.

Moments passed and he at last approached, head dipping down in greeting, careful not to rush them too suddenly. "Hello, little ones," he offered, and drew up close alongside Mercurius, offering a flank-to-flank bump. His emotions would be strong enough to flood that link--wonder, grief, joy, enough to make him cry, except there were children present and he didn't want to frighten them with that sort of thing. "I'm Pride." Pale gaze lingered on his child, on Nassir's--on Temperance--and then he looked to Mercy. "Did they--" (his gaze swivelled gently back to the cubs) "...Do you have names?" he asked, all gentleness and calm.