And here we see the Lamb of the Vita bloodline in her natural habitat.

Sort of.

The low ceilings and dust of Canis had been too much for her to bare. It reminded her too much of her chrysalis-- of the dark, and the claustrophobia, for many, many cycles too long. She left quickly, and took to exploring the caves. As soon as Tahlia reached Fornax, she hadn't really left.

She loved it. She loved the water and the steam from the vents, and the way the water rose and lowered when the lights dimmed. There was something methodical about it in a way-- like it were some machine she were yet to discover the mechanisms off --that drew her to it.

And the water, oh caves, the water. She lived to dive into it, to feel the rushing through her feathers. To hold her breath until she couldn't hold it any longer, and to rise to the surface to gasp for more. Every second she spent in Fornax was spent in absolute joy.

There was truly nothing she loved more, and Tahlia often loved partaking in a certain pastime-- of which she was doing now --where she'd lay on the Moon Island and watch the fish below the surface of the water. She knew the species, now-- she liked to study them, in a way.

She knew the small silver ones liked to hide away, and only emerged for the opportunity of food. She knew the larger calico ones would wait for the silver ones to emerge so that they could eat them. Tahlia would swear she saw a fat, calico fish intentionally set a trap more than once.

She didn't often hunt like this-- instead, she just liked to watch them.

So watch Tahlia did, perched on the isle and staring into the water with a quiet, tilted head.