A smooth, flame-touched surface, colors seeming to dance and burn as any observer moved. It had waited, the spark of life within it growing in silence and quiescence... until now.

A crack crazed the surface of the smooth stone. Another, then another, all in the same spot. Then, the stone exploded.

Chips and shards of opal flew in all directions, a hail of fragments scattered by the pounding of small feet against that spot. The soft white paws stuck straight up out of the hole a moment as though the inhabitant of the gem had been resting - or planning his next move, as the paws slowly disappeared and a soft rustling could be heard as something moved within the gem.

A small pink nose poked out - whiskers trembling beside it as it sought to make instinctive sense of what was beyond the cracked rock's surface. The face pressed forward, fur compressed, and the facial features that slowly became visible contorted into a moue of dislike as the sharp edges scraped at skin, until a head popped free. One stripey head and wide eyes that stared shocked around at the unfamiliarity of things, and then the change in balance caused the whole thing to shift and roll backwards. A shocked mew, and a scramble of claws inside the rock, but the roll inevitably ended with a clunk as tiny striped head met rocky cave floor.

No, no! This was not what he'd wanted to do. Instinct caused the young gembound to kick out again with his back paws until a crackle and another mini-explosion heralded a new hole for his paws to rest out of. Well that wasn't any better! He was still on his head and it didn't feel good at all! He wiggled, and mewed, and scraped, until suddenly the whole rock rolled over again - this time to one side - and he could suddenly rest his paws upon the ground. Success! Sort of!

He experimentally pushed with his soft paws and the rock scooted forward. His blue eyes brightened. Was this it? Was this life? Was this how he moved around? He scooted forward again. No, this didn't feel right. It was uncomfortable and the rocks scraping together made unpleasant noises to his ears.

He stopped to try to puzzle it out as well as he could with the mind of a cub and no experience with the world. An experiment - he pushed with his front paws instead. He scooted backwards. The rock didn't. His head popped back in, and for a second he frowned. That was the opposite of what he wanted! He wanted out! But then he realized that more of his body was outside than before. He wiggled his little butt, sticking out of the rock to his hips, thoughtfully, then pushed again so that more of him slid out. Yes yes! One more push and pop! Out he came into the world entire, a fluffy ball that was all stripes and tail and big clumsy paws.

Oh! This was life then! He took a wobbly first step, then promptly flopped back down on the ground. He was exhausted. Being born was hard! His teeny tiny pink tongue curled as he yawned. Instinct had gotten him this far, but now the cub had no idea what he was to do out in this big, so big world. He wasn't scared, though he probably should have been, and in lieu of trying to figure out his next step... he curled up to take a nap with the complete and utter confidence of the innocent. Because he was tired, and instinct told him to sleep when he was tired!

There was something different here. Something new. They could hear it - the cracking and splintering of rocks, the strangled mew and the soft thud. They had already decided that, after meeting Death, it was time to meet Life. No matter what they were like.

The hybrid turned their head towards the sound with giant bat-like ears jerking gently. They turned, and began to hobble carefully forwards. Fingers outstretched against the rocky floor as they tried to walk, membrane against their legs and chest. It was hard. But they had to do it.

As they came forwards, they stopped at the sight of the cub, silent. What were they supposed to say? What were they supposed to do? Well - they knew their basic functions. Breathing was automatic (though they could focus on it if they so wished), hunting, eating, sleeping. But talking to people?

They had barely spoke with Death.

Slowly, the hybrid breathed in and carefully approached the new gembound, ready to speak, when it fell and began to sleep. They paused. They watched. They slowly sat down, head tilted.

It wasn't life they had found, it was something else, but they weren't sure what. For now, however, they sat, and watched over the sleeping gembound.

@Voltaire