They walked for a bit, and gradually, the farther they went, the colder it got. It was a strange sensation. The forested, green cave of Eridanus had been warm and pleasant – a fine place to hatch. This cold was unusual to the chick, and he didn’t much like it. He made no protest though, trusting that this was the right way to go since the Fox was going that way.

They came to a wall – the edge of the cave. There was a big, big hole in that wall – the tunnel entrance. From it glided chilly breaths of air, which felt and smelled so distinctly different. The baby bird paused for a moment to tilt his head at the new environment before him, and inhale the new air. He blinked and shivered slightly, but then proceeded to catch up with the Fox. When he entered the tunnel with her, he began to also notice that the ground was different. There were no soft plants or dirt. It was hard. And cold. He clucked quietly, huddling closer to the other gembound while eyeing the ground with an almost accusatory stare (or maybe it was just the same, mildly angry and surprised expression that he always had). It was very different ground. He did not like it much. A few more steps in, having only two feet to place on the ground, the cassowary slipped a little…More than a little… He spilled and spun across the floor with an excited screech. What in the world?! It was… slippery. If there ever was a time to begin showing emotion, now was quite perfect. Struggling on the ground, he let out a series of angry peeps, flailing for a moment before regaining his footing and pulling himself back to a stand, indignant, but otherwise unharmed.

The Fox stopped walking for a moment, speaking. The hatchling swiftly turned his attention to her. He recognized his given title, and was pleased. Another syllable stuck out though. Ice. A clean and solitary word. He liked the sound of it. Cocking his head he would watch as she scratched at the ground. It came away, in glistening, foggy shards. The baby bird blinked with surprise and interest. Ice. Oh, so this all was ice. Maybe he didn’t like it so much after all. She dropped it back to the ground, and immediately his head darted down, beak open and eagerly snapping to test it. It was hard and cold like the floor it came from, but when he got it in his mouth, it melted. What a strange thing!

Chattering softly, the hematite gembound would straighten himself and take a second to glance over the area again. Having already glared at the ground, the bird would turn his gaze upward, following the tunnel wall a far, far way towards the ceiling. All around, he could hear the soft pings of moisture, dripping. It echoed prettily – ominously. This was a strange place. It was a little bit frightening to be in. He walked forward, taking extra care this time with where he placed his feet. He instinctively moved closer to the Fox, both for warmth and comfort. Out of the corner of his eye, he continued to watch the dripping walls, listening to the persisting, soft plips. It was a captivating sound. A sound he felt inclined to try and make on his own. Something to take with him, assuming they would not be staying in this place long. As he walked, he tilted his head a little bit and opened his beak, reaching for the sound. It wasn't quite like making "peeps." It was something different, something odd but natural at the same time. He felt it inside of himself - the ability to do what he so intended to. He didn't understand how it worked, it just seemed to work sometimes. Not as well as he'd wanted to, but kind of. The sound did not emanate from his beak (although he already was inclined to open it, just because it was how he made sound otherwise), but rather came from the atmosphere around him in his immediate proximity. It was a warped echo of a thick "plip," somewhat falling apart with the ghost of a second "plip" intersecting it. But he could feel the sound in his skin and it reverberated down the tunnel, and he liked that. Still, he also thought he could do better.