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The soft sounds of cracking gemstone had not gone unnoticed. Nor had the subsequent yelp. On a kinder day, one of the friendly Bonebound might have found her first: but today, Fleas was not so lucky.

The nearby nest of Echoing Grays did not venture out into the open all that much. They didn't need to--and with the larger Gembounds about, it wasn't ever smart. Those who wandered out became prey. The rest..?

The rest sat back, safe in the quiet dark--and promptly broke that quiet with a series of strange cracking sounds. Mimicry, of the shards of rock that had moments ago fallen away. And then another yelp, identical to Fleas's--and then another, but slightly different; shorter, softer, adapted and adjusted.

It was a lure, of course; they knew, instinctively, that a child had hatched. Would it follow the sounds of another child hatching? Would Fleas come to them, waiting gleaming-eyed in the dark beneath their rocky ledges and their boulders? A dozen bodies fell still in their scurrying, staring out at the light.

Another soft yelp carried out into the open, and across the stone.

Fleas jumped to her feet. Wide mismatched eyes glancing about, and her ears sticking up. Another yelp, another crackle. A more experienced gembound might've recognized that the sounds were too similar to those she'd made. But unfortunately for Fleas, her mind was but minutes old. And she thought she knew what those sounds meant. Another like her! A friend!

Her mouth opened in a lazy pant. Too young to give any thought to caution, Fleas stumbled I'm the direction of the sounds, making strange wheezy coughs, until she spat out the word she wanted: "Frrfend! Fend!" Her mind was aglow with joy. Another like her, they could play! She ran in a strange stilted way, gradually learning how to use her limbs as she followed the trail of the echoing grays.

But her tracks led her not to another chrysalis, but instead a collection of empty and dark rocks. She stopped. Fleas tilted her head, tongue flicking out to lick at her snaggle tooth. This place smelled weird as well. Like her but... different. She knew her scent wasn't like that. Maybe it was a different looking friend? "Lo?" She said, cautious, shifting from foot to foot.

"When I speak"
When I think

It was a scene to make any horror movie proud: an eerie silence, a stillness, broken by the sudden flashes of teeth and gleaming eyes, and the hurtling of ragged gray bodies.

The rats broke from cover once Fleas was close: six of them, closing in with great scurrying bounds, yellow incisors bared for her flesh.

They were not as fast as an adult jackal--a baby, they might catch up to--but Fleas had stopped just far enough to be given time to react before they reached her.

Fleas was but minutes old. And as such, it took her brain more than a second to recognize that, hey, those raggedy gray shapes approaching her were not other baby jackals. In that moment, whatever was piloting her brain short circuited. Her limbs locked in fear, like a goat prime for the tipping. The baby jackal went through a myriad of emotions, fear, betrayal, and, strangest of all, a sense of apprehensive friendship.

Fleas had yet to feel the fangs of the rats, and as such the young jackal thought them siblings. Siblings to play and tussle with! And there sure was a lot of them, too. They had surprised her, but that was all. They were playing! Surely that was what they were racing to her for? She fell into a crouch, mouth open in a playful yawn.

The first of them reached her with shredding teeth, their great leaps hurling them for the jackal pup's body with clacking snaps.

Fleas could still potentially-... well, flee; but already the Echoing Gray swarm was trying to drag her down, to tear flesh from bone. Long, yellowed incisors tore for muscle meat; one of the rats scrambled for her belly, intent upon tearing it wide open. If Fleas did not escape, there was every possibility they'd manage to rip strip after strip of furred flesh away, to open the jackal up and begin to eating her alive in a frenzied feast, until her gemstone swallowed her away.

Fleas stayed in her play bow, oblivious, only jumping from it to try and tussle with the fastest rat. Fleas realized her mistake after the rat she tried to tackle bit her snout--way harder than was necessary. It bit a chunk off. Fleas froze, stunned. And then the rest of the swarm came. Fleas was knocked over, overwhelmed within seconds. There was a high pitched, agonized yelp from beneath the pile of massive grey rats. Patches of her freshly formed fur and flesh were easily ripped away, the rats burrowing into her still living body as easily as through mud. Fleas yelped, paddling her legs, trying in vain to escape the rats. Her weak jaws fruitlessly snapped at the dark, hairy forms that swarmed her like a living, teeth-filled whirlpool. Eventually her protesting movements slowed, then stopped, as Fleas was consumed by a different thing; a merciful thing. Her own sardonyx.

The Grays ate what they had managed to pull free--and then dispersed, unwilling to linger near the carnage and the scent of blood.

Fleas would awaken two weeks later with the following Chrysalis Consequence:

Minor Glitch. Pigment may disappear from areas of the Gembound. Will affect dye.

She will find her paws--from toes to pads--have lost all pigment, turning fur white and skin a very pale pink. She has socks.