Mother sent a wave of happiness and approval her way, and Aethereal knew Mother enjoyed this singing. Would she come out and join Aethereal and her sibling in this game, whatever it was? Aethereal shifted from foot to foot, eager to learn this new thing.

Instead of explaining to her in thoughts and words, her siblings went for a demonstration. And when the first note rang out, high, beautiful, and crystal-clear, Aethereal realized that singing was not the sort of game she had been expecting. Despite that, she liked it. The chord they were holding was pure and beautiful, its notes seeming to shimmer through the tunnels of ice. Its timbre had a sort of crystalline quality to it, and Aethereal was utterly enraptured with it all.

She wanted in.

Her first attempt had a bit of a rough start. She was used to speaking in a sort of loud whisper, but she could hardly give a whisper pitch. When at last she managed, with great effort, to give a core to her voice so that it became a note and not just a whisper, its pitch wobbled to and fro and annoyingly refused to come anywhere close to fitting in with the existing harmony.

But Aethereal was nothing if not determined. She had set her mind to this singing, and she would not waver from her goal. Slowly, the note's pitch became more stable, but it was still hopelessly out of tune with her siblings. Aethereal moved it up experimentally, then down - and there! The note was dissonant still, but it felt good for some reason Aethereal could not explain. She held the pitch for a moment longer, delighting in the tension it created - but she had no long-term pernicious intentions to sabotage the singing, and she soon dropped down a half step, falling into the stable harmony shared by her siblings. The previous tension, she thought, had made the resolution all the more satisfying. Aethereal sent a feeling of hopeful curiosity through the mental link - did her siblings approve? Where would this game lead them next?

The gentle harmony rose, still cold and crystalline against the backdrop of bitter cold ice. It was a song of the Hive; a song of ordered ice, a music that brought to mind facets of perfectly-cut and glittering diamond.

Perhaps a strange concept to one who had never seen such stones, yet the concept was there, drifting along the link.

And they approved: they waited for Aethereal to find her stride, and then they began, with their voices, to dance. A harmony of sound, rising, falling, notes intertwining; a symphony instead of simply an overture. It was strange; not a game, no, but a celebration of some sort.

Mother was silent, listening, rapt, to her beloved children. There was nothing more wonderful in the world than her Cleaners, and her Aethereal, her beautiful, blinded white Daughter...

And for the briefest of moments Aethereal would see herself through the eyes and minds of the Cleaner: her form, shaggy white, her dancing feet and singing voice. This was what she looked like.

@Aethereal

The melody spun around her, rising and falling and taking her heart with it. Aethereal kept up the best she could, feeling a giddy excitement in her chest. This was a more unique kind of fun than she'd ever imagined. And as the music surged, she had... a vision.

A long, S-shaped neck. A pair of tough white wings. Fluffy shoulders and fluffy tail. It moved as she did, turning and stepping with its feet at the same moment she stepped. The vision faded as quickly as it came, and Aethereal missed a beat, wondering what it had been and where it had gone. She thought for a moment that it was her sibling, but its position relative to everything else by the den was different.

Was that her, then? Was this how her siblings saw the world? Short though the glimpse had been, it had seemed to open up a new dimension of perception. Although it had been a wondrous thing, to see through the eyes of her Cleaner sibling-friend, Aethereal valued it more for the feeling of empathy - of connection - with her family. To gain an understanding of how they perceived the world, of what it was like to be them - that had been the true gift.

And she understood better, now, what things might come in the future when the link between her and her family strengthened. She would await it eagerly - but here, in the present, she would sing until the symphony drew to a close, and then she would do her very best to get her Cleaner-friend to nap with her on the floor of her den. Nothing like drifting off to sleep, hugging your sibling like a toddler might a stuffed animal.

- exit

The Cleaner was not an intelligent creature--merely a cog in a wheel, with the most rudimentary senses of thought and reason. It was one aspect of a much larger mind.

Thus, when Aethereal gripped it for snuggling, it squeaked for a moment, hard limbs flailing as it was briefly off-balanced by her size.

It acquiesed, though, allowing itself to be held: but it did not sleep, instead lying awake, aware, and watching over its "sibling" in faintly confused, but tolerant silence.

@Aethereal (for visibility)