For the first few days of their life, they had been stifled. First by those that wished to see them, for as Odyssey understood, they were new blood in a group set in dust and bone, numbers stagnating on their flawed and war forged intentions. Then by those that remained close by want, not obligation. They didn't see much of Louie, in fact most of their time was spent with Illiad or with Mother. It was Mother who suffocated Odyssey with her ever watchfulness, though they came to realize that Mother could not see. That didn't seem to stop her from knowing of Odyssey's every action though, each time they had tried to inch away to some other curiosity, each time they had accidentally played too roughly with Illiad, each time they wished to follow Louie to where ever the fox was going. Each time, Mother had stopped them with a cold command to return, and Odyssey knew nothing else, so they obeyed.

But then Mother had gone to do something. For the first time, Odyssey was free. It was a stark instruction to stay rooted in the den that they had been born to, among the comfort of their broken chrysali, the bright lime green and pale dusty white. Alongside the warm body of their brother, where Mother knew they would be safe, or perhaps just reassured by her presumed control. In her absence, Odyssey craved stimulation, but Illiad was asleep. Or at least, seemed to be asleep when Odyssey prodded him, and reaching to their sibling's mind they found it closed, indisposed.

They rose and their gangly legs took them along the ledge that led to the den, peering curiously down the trail and then to the side. They had come to recognize the gentle roar of the twister as the sound of home, and they had been told to keep a good distance from it, but they craved the pull of wind on their fur. They wanted to feel it in its fullest, greatest force, wanted the sensation of a strength beyond theirs pulling their paws out from under. Perhaps they would come to be a thrill seeker, wouldn't Mother disdain that - there was a pinprick of guilt for that feeling. Odyssey loved Mother dearly, and even now as they protested against her demand, they feared what worry would course through her to come back and find Odyssey gone. They wouldn't be out for long. Just enough to see.

The child made their way through the trails, long tail dragging behind and catching dust. Their pink nose rose to the air with a sniff, and from their new vantage point - another ledge jutting out of the wall, some ways away from the den - Odyssey had paused to look out over the room again. Would Ody be able to make it all the way down to the main ground before Mother noticed? It was hard to tell... even harder to tell if Odyssey wanted to chance it.