Embedded in the icy roof of Tunnel H sparkled a golden hued chunk of rock. It was faceted, and bright enough to reflect the harsh ground below, as if mocking whatever lay inside the unfortunately placed chrysalis. If one looked close enough, tiny movements could be seen inside - a shadowy, thin figure, struggling to break free, completely unawares of the sheer drop that awaited just outside of the honey-yellow walls. A dull knock, another, before the sound became consistent, still-growing hooves beaten on the gemstone from the inside, making tiny cracks in the flawless beryl, before the splinters began to spiderweb outwards, connecting and growing, weakening the structure's connecting to both its own walls and to the roof.

Thump. Thump. Crack. With a great crash, the chrysalis fell from the ceiling to the ground, splintering on impact, sending sharp shards of gemstone flying through the tunnel in all directions. The babe inside was oblivious to the cacophony, however, slowly breathing in and out on the cold floor, struggling to open its eyes for the first time. Slowly, ever so slowly, the foal unfolded from the floor, getting up onto shaking legs, blinking in awe at the world. Tiny rivulets of blood streamed from its small, velvet-soft ears, victims of the beryl shards.

Though the babe could hear nothing, not even its own unsteady breathing, it could certainly see and feel, and so it shakily picked its way out of the pile of golden spears, trotting close to one of the tunnel's walls, lingering near an exit that leaked white fumes - fog - and merged the watery, frozen-over floor with a more welcome mud. The colt tentatively took another step... and slid out on the ice, tumbling into the mud with a startled whinny, sitting in the muck dumbly for a moment. Then, with a grin, he got up, tapped back to the ice, and slid again, making a game of the accident with much too loud knickers and the happy thump of hooves.

Panting as he sat by the mud, taking a break from his play, the foal startled at the alien feel of pressure on the crown of his head. Tipping his head up to peer at whatever had happened, the babe found himself staring directly at a... thing. A black, fluffy, feathery thing, with a beak that was moving and feet that were definitely, most certainly, on his head. And yes, the mouth-beak-part was moving, but as much as the foal flicked his ears about desperately, no sound reached him. Snuffling in confusion, sea-blue eyes examined the bird, and he let out a soft knicker - or, well, what he thought was soft. It might have been ear-piercingly loud, for all the deaf babe could tell.

Huffing, the horse tapped its hooves restlessly against the ground, tail swishing. It could think, and see, and move, but no matter how hard it tried, it couldn't hear! Long ears, no hearin', could be laughin', could be jeerin'. The phrase slithered through his mind like a syrupy snake, and he mumbled it out loud - hopefully mumbled it. There might have been some shouting involved. "Black feathers, orange beak, are you talkin', cheep cheep?" Another snort, and an equine grin up at his impromptu hat. "On top me 'ead, not the ground instead?"

The colt, completely oblivious to the crow's words, simply stared back at her, whinnying in confusion. Its beak was nearly in one of his long, fluffy ears, but the canals were filled with blood and small needle-sharp gemstone fragments, permanently blocking any sound. The horse narrowed his honey-brown eyes at the bird, examining it, eyes widening. It was pitch-black, dark enough to reflect the myriad of golden shards that filled the tunnel, its eyes, beak and talons almost seeming to glow. Orange beak is black, used to attack? He could feel the bird's pointy beak in his ear, and flicked the appendage lazily, as if in play. "Quiet tunnel, quiet friend, many shards, can you mend?" Another twitch of his ears, and the cold grinned, taking a few shaky trots forward, as if to test whether Eve would stay atop his head.

The shards quickly regained his limited attention, and the babe leaned down to sniff at one of them, gem beginning to glow. Snuffling, the horse didn't seem to notice, even as the bright light began to flash, to pulsate, as if it were mimicking a heartbeat. Slowly, tendrils of light broke free from the gem's sparkling pattern, slithering through the air before coiling around the honey-colored shard of chrysalis, sinking into the gem's walls before blinking out of view. A breath, two, before the gem began to glow with its own matching light, and the colt whinnied in success, grinning, nudging the glowing object with glee. "Amended for a friend! Bright light for the night!"

The colt, utterly oblivious to the crow's frustration, simply whinnied in joy - loudly - when she accepted the gift. He startled back just a bit when she created her own lights, the orbs seeming to waltz through the air before falling to the ground.

Eosphoros tapped his hooves on the ground in amazement, shakily stepping forward to snort at one of the remaining lights, sneezing as some of the magical residue was inhaled.

Then the quiet friend was gliding back to nest on his head, clutching the gift in her beak, and the baby horse let out a content snort, peering up at her once more, limbs shaky with exhaustion and the chill of the tunnel.

"Night friend is a light friend?" No, that didn't seem right. Ears flicking, Eosphoros tried again, voice still as booming and uncontrolled as ever. "Light up the night, stars waltz the room! Dancers so bright, they seem to bloom!"