One of these things is not like the others...

The chrysalis was a murky mix of orange hues, and contrasted with the cluster of white quartz crystals it was nestled against. It would have been easy to notice for that trait alone, if not for the fact that it was a very small chrysalis; looking into it would have yielded the silhouette of a curled-up fox kit, the tiny neonate appearing to simply be napping within their stone shell.

But shells broke eventually, and it seemed as though today would be the day. A sharp crack near the kit's shoulder heralded the fact that the chrysalis had finally given up on holding them, and the brittle clinohumite unceremoniously shattered to leave a scattering of crystal shards and a very bewildered bundle of fluff flailing their paws about in a futile attempt to run while laying on their side. Blood-coloured eyes darted around as the newly-hatched juvenile took their first few glups of air, until a turn of the head had them staring upward at the ceiling, half-mesmerized by the sparkling pseudo-stars.

Eventually, the discomfort of their current position had the kit rolling over and standing for the first time. They lifted each paw and tapped it against the floor experimentally, which was when they noticed the chunk of stone jutting from their shoulder that looked just like the shards around them, only bigger. With a squeaky yip, they twisted, jaws snapping at the stone, but after spinning in place three times in pursuit of the gem, they decided that this course of action wasn't worth the wobbly-legged feeling it produced and stopped.

Once the dizziness passed, the new gembound looked around again, eyes gliding over the little shards at their paws and the crystal that had been sheltering their chrysalis. The chunk of quartz became their new quarry as they yipped again and launched themself at it, mouth first. Anyone who happened to come across the kit would find them merrily chomping at the crystal, uncaring of the futility of the act.

As soon as he saw blue, Mercurius hesitated. Tentative steps stilled even. Even seeing stars instilled a strange unease. They reminded him of the eyes of vicious eldritch beasts clawing greedily at the light, jealous of its warmth. Had he been younger, he would've hurried into the crumbling abodes. But he had to be the courageous lion, carrying her light with him. It dimmed a little at the thought and he hurried to renew it. He failed and he had to swallow softly to keep in a disheartened cry.

He was too lost in the reverie of shimmering silver eyes slavering to have noticed the wreckage of gemstone before him. As a paw skimmed clinohumite, he arched his back up. For a moment he felt air as he jumped before landing with a heavy thump! Taking in a breath, he realized amicably that this was simply the remnant of a neonate's emergence (he hoped to the Spire it wasn't a stag.) Finding the membrane rather recent, the moonset feline looked around. Eyes falling upon the kit eagerly battling a menacing quartz precipice, he couldn't sustain the air of fear he felt.

A soft chuckle slipped from inky lips and he gravitated (too easily) towards the promise of new life. Still clinging to his amusement, he murmured, "hello, young one. Slaying that vile beast, are you?" It had been too long since he last saw emergence in the Caves. While the domain was expansive, he still expected to see the burgeoning life they once had. Where were they?

@Ashley

The kit heard the thump, and one ear twitched at the strange sound. Turning their head to look would have required letting go of the quartz, though, and they were having too much fun gnawing on their new toy to stop even for big noises. The next noises, however, while quieter, were much more interesting than a thump and combated the allure of the crystal much more easily.

Those had been words, the first that they'd ever heard. The quartz was abandoned as they turned and stared at the words-maker; their head tilted left, then right, reflecting the mental gears turning as they took in both the sight and the greeting, then a reply made the trek from mind to jaws. "Sparkly," they said, tapping the quartz with a paw. As first words went, it wasn't too bad of one, but they weren't finished, following up the statement with a clarification of, "My sparkly."

Puffing up slightly, they swung their head from side from to side, trying to indicate all the little bits of chrysalis still scattered around as their squeaky voice turned proud. "All my sparklies." The youthful logic was simple: since the bits of stone, quartz included, had been surrounding them in their first moments, then clearly it all belonged to them. They hadn't decided if the stones on the ceiling belonged to them as well, yet, since those were too far away to touch with paws or chew on, but once the kit came to learn the concept of climbing, attempting to lay claim to them would likely not be far behind.

However, there was more here than just their sparklies now, something big that spoke words, and this development required immediate investigation. They bounded forward fearlessly and bounced a small half-circle around one of the lion's large paws, making the kinds of springing leaps intended for hunting rodents; they didn't try to actually pounce on the paw, more interested in eliciting a reaction from the adult gembound than engaging in a teeth-first analysis. For now, anyway.

@Mercurius

Alright, if he had to admit, the kit was adorable in their mannerisms, childishly greedy in their possessions. The world would most certainly be their oyster, whether or not anyone had any say in that. Mercurius could have been the responsible adult and tried to perhaps curb the habits as they barely started. Unfortunately, those sanguine eyes held a lot of power in them. With a soft chuckle, he nudged one of the broken shards closer to the neonate. "They are your sparklies!" Absently, he shifted some more of the shattered clinohumite together, forming a rather lackluster pile. They collapsed atop one another companionably.

"I lost my sparklies a long time ago; but I hope you don't lose yours," Mercurius said as the kit bounded over. Their antics about his paws elicited a smike and chuckle from inky lips. Lifting a paw, he gestured to himself, "I'm Mercurius." With his raised mitt, nudged the fox kit playfully, hoping to disturb their little rhythm. "Have you figured out a name, yet?" Was the concept there, perhaps?

@Ashley

The kit hardly need their to be claim reinforced by an adult to fully believe in it, but it sure felt good to hear such a thing all the same. It felt good enough that they didn't even mind him nudging the shards around and piling them up. The idea of losing sparklies, though, that didn't feel good at all, and the little one silently promised themself that that would never happen; they would find the best place to hide their precious treasure away and then guard it, and anyone who tried to take it away would get a good chomping.

At the playful nudge, they let out an equally playful yip and flopped over dramatically. The placement of their stone made it impossible to comfortably roll over onto their back for maximum cuteness, and so they laid on their side instead and just turned their head to stare up at Mercurius with bright, wide eyes as their tail thumped against the ground. The question, however, earned a blink and a twitch of one large ear. "Name?" they repeated, surprised, the idea immediately capturing their full interest.

The kit got to their paws again, shaking their head to indicate that, no, they hadn't figured it out yet. Expression thoughtful, they then sat down and stared at their own front paws, their exuberance temporarily contained to the occasional twitch of an ear or their tail as the gears started to turn again. While the full significance of naming oneself was something they were not currently equipped to contemplate, they did grasp the concept and some of the importance of the act, enough to not just blurt out the first word that came to mind.

Frankly, if they had named themself the first thing that came to mind, it would likely have been 'sparkly.'

Finally, they broke the thoughtful silence. "Ash." A pause, a tilt to the head as they heard the word floating in the air, and they corrected it, "Ashley. I'm...Ashley." Short and simple, reflecting its owner's current vocabulary; it didn't flow and dance the same way a name like Mercurius did, but it was theirs now, claimed like their sparklies and to be hoarded much the same, potentially added to but never let go of.

Decision made, they hopped to their feet again. "Ashley and Mercurius," they said, all youthful pride once more as they successfully repeated the longer name. But then they looked up again at the bigger gembound before them, gaze full of innocence, hope, and just a dash of vulpine cleverness. "My Mercurius?"

Ashley was indeed on the path to making the world theirs, but at least they were giving him a choice in the matter. Or maybe just pretending to.

@Mercurius