A Bit of Burning Passion... and Feathers

Ananke blinked up, her quiet stillness as she'd waited at last giving way to movement. Her expression was a little surprised. "You heard Mother?" she asked. Then she blinked, shaking her ears. "There's many of us--our family--in the web. Mother is... special. She is older, and very powerful." She kept her voice down, hushed even as if in awe--was it genuine, or an attempt to weave an aura of mystique to draw Not further in? "She takes care of us, and one day--when we're strong enough--she'll lead the fight against Chaos."

Ananke paused, lifting up her forepaws to thoughtfully wash her whiskers. Then she sat back again, studying Not keenly. "She may have been. She's as mysterious as she is strong, and she knows a lot of what goes on through the caves. Not everything, but... she might have seen you before."

The rabbit let that hang in the air for a moment, then took a breath and made a face that somehow approximated a smile. "What do you think?" she asked, wondering what Not had made of it.

And now--with the link slowly sliding into place--Not could probably feel her mind, the faint weight of her emotions: curious, patient, and observant.

A half step of a shuffle closer as Ananke speaks, the raven is watching her carefully with one eye. Part of him preens at her surprise, convinced he's special for having heard Mother so soon, so easily. Part of him tenses at the idea of being weak, needing to be taken care of, to wait... but most of him gets it.

Decisive victory against failure, to avoid it yourself, requires tactics and preparation beyond what simply amassing an army of capable creatures can do.

The idea that She's been watching him, waiting for him, for the opportunity to bring him to what he knows he deserves and needs... his body language seems torn between intrigue and pride. A few clicks of his beak, and he speaks.

"I think... I'd like to come with you." his head tilts back and forth as he mentally looks at the link, picking up on Ananke's emotions and his own reflecting hers. His patience is tainted with reluctance, borne of fear of more pain... pf being a Failure as well.

"If what you say and what I... see... feel. Is entirely accurate. I'd like to come with, to join you all, if I suit Mother's expectations."

"When I speak."
When I think.

Ananke sat back, delighted, her nose bobbing up and down. Of course, this presented a sort of logistical problem: where could they stay-?

Mother did not ever invite those not fully Hosting her gifts, not into the deeper reaches of the Hive. But--"Maybe we can go meet some of the others, then?" Ananke suggested, hopefully. She quickly ran her mind back through those who might be present--Halcyon, Jinyi, Bone or the like--and gave herself a little nod.

"Otherwise, you are welcome to come to my burrow. It's warm, a little small but it's safe," she went on. She'd dug herself the burrow deep through the snow in Ursa, down until she'd hit packed earth, but since then she had lined the place with fur and feathers until it was soft and warm.

He seems to be fidgeting in place, but also still. Most likely the rhythmic ruffling of his feathers in the warm-cold winds, or the new feeling he needs to adjust to in his mind. Or maybe, the energy under his skin at knowing he now nearly serves a new purpose.

Oh who was he kidding- he's useful. Mother will keep him, and he'll be useful to someone else again and not wind up like the rest of the Failures. If not... then. Well. He is Not, he refuses to be anything he isn't. He is useful, interesting, and better than what he's seen.

The raven offers a sharp nod to Ananke at the mention of meeting others- there are always others, and the rabbit had mentioned them before.

"Makes sense to meet them beak to nose, instead of simply... waiting." he agrees, eyes squinting in his version of a duly pleased smile. The bird is presuming the need to introduce him to others is for safety's sake... and he appreciates that. Caution is like a pulled feather- useless when thrown to the wind.

Tilting his head once more, and flicking some snow from his head, he eyes Ananke. "The... offer is appreciated. I may take you up on it if the skies white out, but... myself and holes do not mix. Den or not, tight spaces make a part of me crawl if I can touch the ceiling with my beak." the first time he's come across as kind, or partially apologetic in this entire conversation, and it makes his throat puff slightly in discomfort. Alliances go both ways, as do any relationships. Trust is harder to build if you act like a fish bone stuck in someone's throat. is a calm, inner reminder.

"When I speak."
When I think.

Ananke looked Not over--in particular his wings--and gave a quiet laugh of amusement. "No, you... need freedom, don't you?" She shook her head, smiling a little--the sort that scrunched the eyes, rather than curled the lips.

"Well--I am going to head back that way now; this place is a little..." She glanced off at the lava. "Warm, for me. But you're welcome to come with me. If you don't want to, well--I'd suggest... listening to Mother. I don't mean obeying--but if you pay close attention to our link, it will grow stronger faster. We can even speak through it, eventually," she added, easygoing, even content.

There was no response; that did not mean Not wasn't coming up with one, but for now, Ananke found herself drifting into distant thought.