She had woken up several times over the years; the taste of ash fresh on her tongue, the heat of flames at her heels. She would push up and forward until the chrysalis shattered, but there would rarely be any fresh air for her outside of it. If Kera had to guess-- and Kera was quite good at guessing --the ominous crashing followed by blacking out for an inexplicable amount of time meant that there must have been rubble on top of her chrysalis.

Which was great, because Kera lived alone and no one was going to go looking for her and dig her out anytime soon.

If Orion was still intact, Kera did not know. If her neighbours survived the fire, she did not know. If the caves themselves were in ruins and this were a different kind of hell that was in store for Kera (for being the catalyst in getting people murdered by an angry goose, probably), Kera did not know, but it seemed increasingly plausible with every passing failure to escape.

Kera did not like this fate for herself. Every time she opened her eyes in the stifling dark she reared up as hard as she could to break out; but never did she manage to get very far without something falling and collasping onto her and, eventually, she would pass out again.

When she awoke again, two and a half years after her initial blackout, she decided she needed help. She'd had more than enough of this routine-- she reared back and she kicked until she felt the familiar crumbling of the chrysalis followed by thick, charred stones shifting on top. She'd have to be quick, or she'd be fucked or another few months.

Heavy forepaws lifted and, like she were digging out of a grave, she shovelled what pebbles she could from above. "HEY," she bellowed (would it be enough?) as she made a mad scramble for air. "HEY IS ANYONE OUT THERE?"

Kera paused-- a voice? --and angled her ears. They didn't go very far. There was already something on her head weighing it down. A very distant, frustrated part wanted to start shouting and screaming and swearing at the disembodied voice for, it sounded like, just sort of being there and not helping-- the part that knew better kept Kera calm.

"I'm stuck," she called to no particular direction. "If I don't get out, I'll die again." (This was a very normal thing to say, in Kera's head.) "You gotta-- I need help. I need air."

She was close, at least-- even if she went back into her chrysalis again, now someone knew she was here. Someone knew she needed help. Even if she blacked out, she would wake up somewhere else.

Well, at least the person on the other side was aware of the gravity of the situation. The other noises didn't seem very hopeful, though. Her ears strained and she could hear pebbles being thrown back; which at least meant something was happening and it wasn't time to throw in the towel yet.

Her paws found something softer and she began to dig with the hope that the combined effort could help bring fresher air into the mound of rubble-- but within seconds her paws were scraping against hard slabs of rock, nails scritch-scritch-scritching loudly.

"Fuck," came a snarl of her own. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

There had to be a better strategy. "Do you have any magic?" She asked, as if it were something you could slot into a knapsack for emergencies.

Oh, she's definitely fucking leaving.

The air was becoming oversaturated with Kera's heavy breaths and she planted her broad head against the shell of her chrysalis, uncomfortably damp and humid. Though she had little in the way of surviving memories of what would come next for her, the wolf knew it was going to be anything but pleasant: slowly suffocating until her gemstone overtook her body.

Kera knew it would go by easier if she relaxed, but all she could focus on was the clipping of distant hooves on rock as they seemed to grow louder and louder even as the sound of her breathing filled the little cavity until there was nothing left.

She was lucky, however, to have only just began choking when the slab lifted and, like floodgates opening, cold, fresh air hit her face. There was only a milisecond's pause before her scarred muzzle was jamming through the gap and she hungrily gasped for the air of Orion which, to her, might as well have been ripe oxygen from the surface itself.

Her lungs had been left out to dry, it felt like-- it hurt, even, for her aching throat to gulp down so much without second thought --but it was only once she'd had her fill that she pulled her face back from the gap and offered the vaguest of nods.

"Fuck. Rainbows aren't that bad," she breathed. Kera couldn't make rainbows-- she'd have to find a rainbow mushroom to pull that shit off. "Fuck," she repeated absent-mindedly, shoulders heaving.

A few beats passed by before Kera's paws replaced where her muzzle had been, as she began scooping smaller rocks and dirt backwards to widen the gap. "Thanks," she said, in the meantime-- she wasn't out but this was better by a longshot.

It should be noted that Kera was definitely not very reassured by Thalia, who sounded as though she might accidentally re-tomb her at any given moment. The fresh air was enough for now, though-- it would keep her alive much longer than she had been in the last few years.

Her question, though? "I don't remember," Kera said. "I think there was a fire, but that's about it." Cool story from the Lightbringer herself.

Speaking of. "I'm Kera, the Lightbringer," she offered up. "Not super helpful in this situation, either, though." Hell-- if Mortal Enemy Number One had seen her in this situation now she might as well have stayed under all the rock.

"You, uh. Dig dogs out of rocks often?"