Ananke was-... puzzled, to say the least.

It wasn't that she didn't understand. Even now--as she hopped slowly and cautiously toward a neatly-laid set of three Dontas bags (arranged perfectly symmetrically in the snow, at corners of an equilateral triangle)--she could feel the whispers tugging at the edges of her consciousness.

She felt the new sibling who had awoken, somewhere distant, offering out the same items to strangers. She felt Mother's low and thrumming excitement, and knew that these events were major, were portentous; that they heralded a vast advance in their maker's power here within the caves.

Ananke met those thoughts with blind zealotry--with loyalty, and a fierce support of the idea--but actually seeing the bags was something else. She cast out her magic, clearing the area in a move that was now automatic; everything had to be perfectly clean. And then, she came up to the nearest Donta bag.

Anyone approaching would likely be unaware of the deeply religious bent of Ananke's thoughts--instead, they'd see the comparatively very mundane sight of a white rabbit picking at the edges of a Dontas bag with her teeth. She was trying to get it open; trying to nibble a gap in the paper wrapping, to get at the chips inside.

The jingle still ran through the air, or was it through her mind?--Dontas, Dontas! Dontcha' wanta Donta? and all Ananke could think was, but what ARE they?!

The greeting caught her very much by surprise. So engrossed had she been in the Dontas pack that she hadn't even noticed the sensations of another's approach until that little whisper. Blinking and startling, she came upright, and with a brief sift through the Hivemind she found herself in the eyes of another. "Oh-..." she said, and struggled to calm her racing heart. Don't be silly; it's just a friend, Ananke chastised herself.

She took a shuffling hop to the side to make room. "Sibling." The single word sounded clipped and proper, even cold, on the surface. But beneath it--like a river underground--ran a current of emotion: one sensed via shared mind, and one warm and welcoming, even affectionate. "Thank you."

Ananke dipped her head down, nibbling briefly on a chip as she took in Halcyon's form. She probed briefly along the link for some hint as to who they were; their voice in her mind was nearly foreign. If it had been there before, it had been but a background whisper among many. But the creature looked fascinating, and at once she had the impression of someone kind and polite (as much due to their actions as to any magical link). For a moment, she struggled with the manners of such a meeting: in a world where they could learn everything about one another in a few moment's shared thoughts, where did conversation fit in?

She settled on being polite, and rather traditional; if Halcyon wished to simply converse along the link, she would take their lead instead.

"Ananke," she said, after this moment's thought. "Thank you, again. These are good--I don't know where they've come from, do you? I believe they're--ours, though," she added, glancing around. "We haven't met--have we?"

The greeting that Halcyon gave in turn was so eloquent, so well thought-out, that Ananke felt suddenly... inadequate. Their smooth use of thought and words combined, their calm confidence, their nature as one of the Hive's true creations--a native, one who really belonged--left her insecure.

Uncertain.

It left her feeling other, as though something had shunted her a step outside her family, reminded her that she was not truly one of them. Mother's link was quick to reassure her that this wasn't the case, of course; that she'd been chosen, that all of those in Mother's family were true family. But the sensation lingered uneasily nonetheless, so that when Ananke blinked back to reality (to see Halcyon maneuvering a chip out of a bag with nothing but perfection at hand) it was with a strange sense of the alien. Her perspective had been given that little shift, that little nudge, and her mood had pitched downward just a little.

Her respect for Halcyon, of course, had gone up a little; perhaps she was not their equal. Perhaps she owed them respect, even obedience-? She sent that question out along the link, unspoken, nothing but fragmented and shifting emotion. At least if she knew their relationship truly, she could address it with some confidence--even if she were lesser.

"You are right, of course," she said at last, a direct response to all our minds meet, as is right and necessary. And along the same lines, she sent out an almost sheepish addendum: Zero-Zero-Two Priestess. She found herself wondering what it was a steward was; what a steward did, and curiosity flickered up past the uncertainty. She took the "keep quiet, just in case" cue, and sent that thought out wordless: May I ask what it is a steward does? It might have come across, to one not so linked and were it verbal, as polite indifference, but along this link it would be clear that there was genuine interest there.

Cheese powder had brushed across the tops of her white paws, and so she sat back and upright, spending a moment to carefully lick clean her fur. "They taste... good," she said aloud, trying--and failing--to find a more descriptive word. Addictive, pleasing, tasty, her mind added, afterward. "Do you know if there is a purpose to them?" She could consult Mother via the link, she supposed; but ahh, there was something... pleasant, about conversation.

A strange sense of relief flooded the white rabbit, and she settled back on her haunches, inspecting Halcyon with renewed interest--and renewed confidence. Warmth, even.

Of course they were family; of course she had nothing to be worried about. Their flawless explanation, via mental metaphor--the flowing rivers--had at once soothed her concern. And to that end, gently, she spoke. "Is there anything I might do to help you in your tasks?" she asked, as formally, as politely, as possible. Mine is to bring Mother to those outside, and to support our family in all things, her thoughts added, a soft addendum. The glow, in her heart--a pristine white--was a love for Mother and all her creations. A feverish, fervent love; an obsessive devotion.

If there was anything she could do for Halcyon, anything at all--I am happy to serve our cause.

Ananke was careful to give Halcyon's question the same careful consideration that they'd given hers. She had travelled, a little, throughout the caves--moreso as a young kitten, before she had found Mother and Mother, her.

She had seen Eridanus, and Pegasus, had seen Gemini and many of the tunnels in between. At first thought, her instinct was agreement, a wry mental nod to the fact that everywhere was chaos. Eridanus was beautiful, yes--natural--but its life was chaotic, a flurry of tangled vines and overly-bright flowers that hid predatory shapes lurking within. At least, that's how Ananke saw it; her encounter had been from the perspective of a very small, very edible creature. The jungle, though beautiful, had seemed frightening and full of ominous shadows, like a dream-turned-nightmare.

But on the heels of that agreement was her consideration, her knowledge--as she looked at it from Halcyon's point of view--that their job was that of steward. (And these thoughts, her brief process, was fully open to them to follow along with.) A combatant, a Priestess even, might have been best-served preaching in these places--but a steward, whose task it was to aid others of the Hive, to amplify their abilities-?

"If you are alone..?" she suggested, at last, her voice delicate, "The place--Gemini--full of crystals? It is... It reminds me of our Order," she began, thoughtful. "It might be a good place for us to begin settling a new piece of Mother, to... prepare," she went on. And she was thinking in an almost militaristic sense--or a Priestly one; perhaps comparable to a Crusader. Gemini was a place full of crystalline order, a place that was almost sterile, that could be prepared for Mother and taken as the Hive's next stronghold, with careful preparation. And it would be close, too, to the very core of the caves. "But with others--wherever they are going, I suppose," she went on. Fluidly Ananke shifted to thought, so that it was not overheard. It might be worth asking the others among us where they'd like to go, and what they would like to do, in their tasks; each might find a different cave suitable. She paused, prim, proper, and nibbled at a single chip while she considered again. If you ever wish to accompany me... I have long wished to try and find those to speak to of Chaos and of Order. Of evil... and good. But-... The thought went unfinished, but there was a faint sense of dismay in it, of fear--Ananke feared being eaten. She was so very small, and it would be so easy for some Valkhound to sense her, to snap her up just like she was snapping up these Dontas.

Could Halcyon even help with that..?

She eyed them sidelong, and wondered.