ORIGIN

His consciousness bubbled forth like the release of air from a snorkel, clumped together in a big burst and followed by trails of thoughts and senses. The fluid that surrounded him was tepid; once, it might have been hot. In fact, it was almost as if he remembered it being hot. Remember...?

A crack in the small kunzite chrysalis pierced his thoughts—thoughts?—and in the blink of an eye, the lavender chunk shattered under the growing pressure within. Small and weak, the marten kit was spit unceremoniously from his crystal womb and he fought the air that threatened his lungs. In the end, the need for air won, and he coughed up fluids to make room for it. It was cold out here. He felt himself shiver and he shook to loosen his fur of the sticky stuff that clung to it.

Finally, his eyes opened: a sheen of silver and white. The pink-purple glow of the area surrounding him was enough to keep him quiet for only a moment as he took in the beauty of it, and of his own chrysalis shards that glimmered like treasure in the shimmering light of the tunnel. Beyond the doorway was similar lighting, and it beckoned to him like the allure of a siren's song.

In the back of his head whispered a knowing, a title, a name: Samael. Sam.

Sam.

He felt a wanting hole growing in his chest. 'Sam' didn't feel adventurous enough. The marten kit shuffled through pieces of his chrysalis to collect the best shard, then sat back on his hind legs and held the kunzite chunk tightly in his paws, close to his chest.

What was adventurous? He would know. He decided then, that he would know. He didn't know now, but he would come to know it. Adventure was his purpose; he decided this too in that same moment. He would be an adventurer. He would collect treasures like the piece of his chrysalis. He would be...

Samael?

"Sam?" whispered his voice.

Tiny, rounded ears flicked at the sound of it. No, he did not like it. It did not sound like the name of an adventurer. But, it was who he was. It was special. His little finger-toes shifted over the facets of the kunzite piece. Sam. This was Sam. Special. Close. Secret.

So what was the name of an adventurer? Who would take Sam on these adventures?

Wolf... the brief, flashing image of a monster with teeth. He did not know Wolf, but something deep in his mind did. Wolf was scary. Wolf was probably strong, too. Wolf could adventure. Wolf was running through the trees in this brief flash of consciousness. Was it memory? Or simply the primordial definition of Wolf filling in blanks he did not know himself? Wolf in the Woods.

"Wolf... wood." Yeah. Yeah!

"Wolfwood!" he declared to nobody but himself, shoving the shard of his chrysalis between his teeth and loping up to the massive entry that separated Gemini from the tunnel. Whatever was in there, he'd know. He didn't know now... but he would come to know it.

Adventure!

From the depths of the gem-room emerged a creature so large that Sam had to crane his head back to see her fully—well, to Sam at least, she was very large! The largest thing he had ever seen! And he had been seeing stuff for at least three minutes!

She almost crushed him. He felt fear first, like sparks of electricity racing through his veins and telling him to run; but at the same time, he found he could not move. With wide eyes and an open jaw, he stared at certain death until it (thankfully) stopped.

"Hel...lo." Sam cocked his head. Hello. Hello?

"Hello!" he squeaked in response, suddenly very excited to meet someone else. Then she said "bad" and Sam tilted his head again. Bad? What was bad? With the kunzite still in one paw, he lopsidedly loped after her.

"Wait!" he called, but at first, he didn't know why. He felt an urge to connect with her, with anyone, because the world so far seemed large and empty. "What name?? I'm Sa—aah... Wolfwood!" Wolfwood, yeah! Sam was special, he had almost forgotten already!