Amongst the quiet rows of ancient, hewn seats within the building, atop one such seat close as it could be to the central arena - and the young creature now within - one stone, decidedly more vibrant than its surroundings, shifted. How long it had lain within the forum was anyone’s guess; perhaps days, perhaps weeks perched atop one of the seats as if patiently awaiting some untold event. Whatever the case, soon it would become clear that its inhabitant - whomever it may be - had grown aware of their cramped surroundings, and simply was not having it.

The chrysalis of lapis lazuli shifted again, this time more violently. It gave another rock, and all at once tumbled suddenly from its perch to roll down the few remaining rows of seats between it and the arena proper, finally settling within the round space - though settled was, perhaps, not the right word. The stone seemed alive, now, rolling and rocking back and forth. Whatever was inside was clearly agitated; at last, a break in the stone appeared, and the tip of a beak peeked its way out from a fracture in the azure stone. Apparently sensing how close it was to freedom, the creature inside gives another violent shake, the beak making an attempt at widening the fracture that had allowed its appearance-

And managed a deep crack within the azure prison, from which the entirety of it slowly begins to shatter and fall away, revealing a wet, bedraggled mess of black-white-blue feathers. The creature flops over to one side in some vain effort to right itself after such a dizzying entrance into the world. She’s silent, for now.

To say that she’d had a rude awakening would be an understatement for the little magpie - dropped a fair few feet onto unforgiving stone, her chrysalis unbending against the movement; no doubt she was partially dazed, at the very least. Beady black eyes blinked open against the crystalline light of Orion’s ceiling, blinking away the blurriness of her newfound vision. And then there’s a nose. A furred nose, not far from her, snuffling in her general direction. And as she glances up from her prone position, there's a creature attached to said nose. A creature much, much larger than she herself. She attempts to right herself again more hurriedly this time, uncoordinated wings flapping against the packed dirt as she at least manages to pull herself onto her stomach - and the ram was still there, eyeing her. It was so big. So unlike her.

It was then that the magpie found her voice at last, though without the words to accompany it - instead, a shrill cry escapes her, wings fluttering uselessly at her sides. Her feathers, still wet from her recent emergence, clung to her tiny frame - truly, she seemed a ball of mostly-formed feathers and little else. That cry rang out again, and again, as if scolding the ram for scaring her.

The warning seemed to work, as before she knew it the strange, large creature was backing away hurriedly and into a pile of… something. Her still-new eyes struggled to make it out, but it looked a shell of some sort - a giant red shell, now apparently much too small for him, with the way he struggled. Her new mind begins to put pieces together, slowly at first, then quicker as she grows accustomed to all of the sensory input assaulting her. He must’ve just gone through the same thing she had. Hadn’t he? Surely any creature that backed off that quickly was just as wary as she was. Wary of the new world that sparkled and gleamed above and around them.

The big, four-legged creature stepped closer again, this time much more hesitantly, and her beak remains closed. Now that he wasn’t immediately upon her, she felt less discomforted at his presence - though he did look odd. No feathers to speak of, unless the fuzz that seemed to cover him /was/ tiny feathers. But something told her that wasn’t right. He speaks, and her black head twists this way and that, gauging the sound.

“What are you?” She mimics, her tone largely the same as his but her voice altogether different - higher, and with a curious lilt. “What are you?” She says again, apparently pleased that she’s found her voice, if only so that she can imitate his speech. Her wings flutter again, evidently more as a means to test them than anything else - with every moment spent out of her chrysalis they dry by degrees, whorled feathers uncurling both into sleek black pinions, and - closer to her belly and back - the soft down of a still-young fledgling. Though the dampness would dry, it seems she’d have a while yet to go before she looked anything other than a somewhat bedraggled lump of feathers and beak.

@Aries

The lamb shouted - evidently he hadn’t been as pleased as she was that she’d found her words at last! He seemed to suddenly grow, head lifting imperiously over her tiny form, and she let out another squawk - more of an indignant one than the fearful noises she’d made before, as the creature had just previously proved himself to be as flighty as she was. Perhaps it wasn’t best to anger him further, though.

“What am I?” She asks, picking out the words in her mind - who was she, after all? Clearly not of the same make as the towering lamb. But she was something, clearly - something with feathers, and wings and beak to match. “I’m me! I don’t think I could be anything else!” She flapped her wings, glancing to them as if she’d just now recognized them as her own. “Why don’t you have these? And why are you so big?” The words seem to come easier with each sentence; she tilts her head curiously up at the creature, wondering how he would answer.

@Aries