Ghanyarah was hasty in his return to Cetus; he didn't want anybody else to catch him with his figurative pants around his ankles. The morganite shard in his mouth was burning with activity and it made him restless. It gave him fear that something would suddenly start happening - he could feel the energy burning, struggling, straining for release. There was unrest in it and he needed to get it back home, but after that, Ghanyarah didn't know what he would do.

He fled through the tunnel, into the opening into the swampy room and was met with the humid moisture of the comfortable mist. Sunset pink eyes narrowed and he found the familiar trail he always took, hefty form weaving through the massive trees until he had reached his home. His tree. It's sprawling roots crawled up and out, jumping over the soil, writhing above the surface and diving down into the dirt, welcoming him back. The trunk of the tree stretched aimless up into the air, reaching towards the roof while its canopy of leaves extended high overhead, shading him from the bright lights strung up above. They cast forth a diffused glow that, in the day time, flooded through in isolated streams, lighting up small patches on the ground. His drawings were etched in the bark, a reminder of his endeavors.

The komodo scampered up to the tree. There was a small alcove in the trunk that, while he didn't sleep there - he didn't like sleeping out in the open - would likely make a great place for a nest. A nest? Why was he even thinking that? He didn't know what would come of this broken shard. The dragon snorted and dug out a small divet in the leaf litter and the soil, right up against the bark of the tree. There, he finally placed the stone. Ghanyarah pushed some soil up against it to hold the stone firmly in place and sat back, satisfied with his work. Alright.

...Actually, no. The dragon changed his mind and got to work again, digging a deeper hole, intent on burying the shard. Just in case that stupid owl came looking for it.