It would've been hard to miss. A massive Oilstone chrysalis, tucked in the shade under the hill. By now a showering of flower petals, brought on the winds, had settled on and around it, a serene blanket for the Valkhound contained inside.

Karst did not dream, not yet. But she stirred, the voidlight shining in through the thinning chrysalis walls. Strong legs ached from being curled up, and a sturdy neck craved to stretch long. Too small... need more room, their not-quite-awake brain manages.

The Valkhound shifts, and finds something catches on the walls of its current enclosure. Growing increasingly frustrated, she makes her gambit, headbutting the walls with a loud CRACK! It's enough for the chrysalis to crack, fluid starting to pour out. Another push, this time with her legs in it, and Karst finds herself out, tumbling onto the grass and taking a deep breath of fresh air.

She lays there for a while, catching her breath, sprawled out. Not that they particularly have anywhere to go. And the air on her face, room to stretch... this is nice.

For a while, Karst is oblivious too, turned the other way. And when Plover comes into view, she still doesn't quite connect that xe are something important - or at least something that she should pay attention too. Their green eyes do glance over xem occasionally, but its with just as much focus as the rest of the grass and trees get.

Then xe speak. A rough nudge on her shoulder, too, to rouse the Valkhound from her reverie. They blink away some of the drowsiness from just waking up, planting one foot down. Her voice is quieter than xirs, uneasy, as she answers, "I-I don't... think so?"

She takes the moment to get her feet underneath herself, going from awkward sprawl to sitting on her heels. And Karst actually pays some heed to studying the talkative thing that has waltzed on up to her. Green... Very green. She's not quite sure if xe has eyes? It looks like xe should... "What? What are you, then?"

Karst just blinks at Plover's grin, a bit too young to be bothered by too many sharp teeth. And they watch xem plop xemself down in the grass, getting comfortable right next to her. What does she call this? Is the green thing now a... friend? The word is supplied by her brain from somewhere, and it would take a moment for the Valkhound to puzzle out what that is.

And then the green-thing - no, Plover - declares xemself with gusto. "Plover. Hungry," she parrots, and in doing so commits it to memory. "I'm. Hmm." The valkhound isn't quite sure what she is - at least until something else wriggles around in her head. "Karst. I'm Karst."

Plover has made xemself comfortable, rolling in the grass. Karst finds herself chuckling, as she agrees with xir words. "Yeah. It is pretty nice. I don't know how I did it."