At long last, V-Zoisite-One stood before the shallowly dug den in the dirt of Tunnel P, which smelled vaguely of a family of rats that had lived here only a few cycles ago. They were no where to be seen now, but a tinge of sadness ran through her that she could not quiet catch any signs of her family.

It had, after all, been years.

There were terrible memories here. She had prepared to face them, to face the towering shadow of Lord Dhracia and the hushed whispers of terror. She had not prepared for what she now faced: a gaping, empty hole. A memory turned into nothing more than a bunch of sand and dirt and stone, forgotten and abandoned. She had been born here, raised here, and it looked exactly like several other tunnels that she had gone through to get here. Just more stone, just more quiet nothingness.

It was so much smaller than she remembered. She twisted her head to the side and looked up the walls, at the tiny nooks and crannies she used to scramble up and into, playing with her hatchmates. Not a single one would hold her now. A lesser could dart into one of those cracks and be safe from her crushing mandibles.

The melancholy that settled over her had a heavy weight to it. She looked back to the dug out where she curled up in safety, and carefully eased her way down into the den. It was easily big enough to still hold her-- it had held monsters, her siblings, who had often towered over her-- but the walls pressed in around her anyway. She scratched at the dust, uprooting some pebbles and seeds that had been left here by something, many cycles ago.

And she reached for her magic.

The seeds were old, and dry, and even with her prompting, only one of them split and uncurled a faint green tendril. It was small and weak, and the light of the caves barely reached here. It probably wouldn't survive on its own, so far from anyone to care for it... But Zoey wanted to try, anyway.