Being a tiny thing was not an easy life. Nestled dangerously close to the riverbed, a tiny egg was growing-- it was barely bigger than a fist, spared only in the fact that it was near to the Spire. Had it not been for a giant ape, the golems would have likely stolen the chrysalis from its spot a cycle ago and turned into a crypt instead of a budding seed. As it was, the gem had finally hit its full size and the creature inside was ready to pop out.

It took some work, yes, but despite her small size the tiny noodle managed to make a hole in the gem. Slowly but surely the tiny blade of grass wiggled free from her shell and gaze about the world with her bright yellow stare. Everything was decidedly very blue-- and there was not another blade of grass in sight. Huffing and sticking out a pale tongue, the sprout wriggled down to the ground and began to creep along the shoreline. Surely there would be grass where there was water? She just had to find her kin, and then she would be happy.

Be like the single blade of grass. For she too, has been trampled on, mowed down, and hit with such bitterly cold stretches that she had to shut down to survive. Yet still she stands upright with dignity, knowing that she endures... and still she dances with the wild wind.