Their eyes had been open for days now - waiting and listening. Occasionally, they could hear signs of movement or passing conversations, but the words never registered to them. They wondered who they were, what their purpose was. If they'd have any significance in their life.

They doubted it. But there was no point in fretting over it for long. They were patient, waiting, not for them to break the chrysalis, but rather for it to break on it's own. It had gotten to the point where their shoulders were uncomfortably pressed up against the blackened walls of their home, their neck craned at an awkward angle.

It wasn't going well.

Perhaps force was, in fact, needed after all. They couldn't hear any cracks or splinters in their home - which they were more than positive by now could indeed give way and break - not matter their doubts right now. They just had to give it that extra shove.

Were they ready? They supposed they were as ready as they ever would be - if they stayed here longer they might experience severe spine problems. Their shoulders heaved and their head pressed against the wall roughly, pushing and pushing and pushing until-

CRACK.

Light flooded in. They couldn't quite turn their head to see it, but light was mingling into the darkness. They could see the outline of their legs, cramped against their bellies and their hind legs propped up against the wall. They pushed and they shoved, crack at the top of the chrysalis beginning to expand and break.

Suddenly, they were free. Their gangly, thin body was outstretched and they were panting for fresh air. The lights almost blinded them, but here they were. Lying on their back with seemingly not a care in the world. They were decidedly waiting now - though for what they were unsure of. But they were positive it'd come to them at some point or another.

They closed their eyes. Too bright. With ears twitching, they waited.

Diánysma was developing quickly, learning how to use her wings to glide short distances and climbing onto higher ground to do so. This way, she was capable of covering a lot more ground in one cycle of being awake and sleeping. Back in Orion, the raven had been studying the bacterial life within the caves. It was so interesting, and with her little sample of bubonic plague stored away safely, she decided it was time to search for more pathogens. But first, she needed to spruce up her study hall a bit. 'I will return shortly to continue my studies,' she'd thought before leaving the ruined building and its haphazardly organized contents behind in search of the Core that she had heard tell of.

And now... she was here... at the heart of the caves. As usual when she first walks through a cavern's entrance, she pulled at her magicka.

Obliging to her wishes, the stone at her sternum buzzed and trembled, lending her sight of the prokaryotic creatures in the cavernous room. Blinking once or twice, the raven was surprised by the sheer amounts of bacteria—postive and negative—in Polaris. Nearby, she heard a resounding CRACK!. Beady red eyes blinking, the plague vector scampered off in that direction. Diánysma's eyes fell upon something...

Something really ugly.

What was that thing?

The pale corvid jumped up onto a stone and gazed at the neonate lying on its back. Rubies gazed at it, blinked, and then stared again. It had body parts that looked like they definitely didn't belong. To Diánysma, they just looked so... odd? They were covered in good bacteria as well, as seen from the white dots covering the gangly child's frame. Hesitantly, she crowed a greeting.

They didn't have to wait long for... whatever they were waiting for. A soft croak caught their (giant) ears and they turned their head to spy at the raven curiously. A tongue seemingly too big for the beast's mouth lolled out and licked their jowls before they turned and lay on their belly.

Fluids from the chrysalis coated their frail body. They continued to watch the raven with a tilted head, ears pricked to listen for any sound she might decide to make, if by choice or by accident. The creature heaved and rasped momentarily. "Hello," they wheezed, head tilting the other way.

Slowly, they lifted themselves to their feet. The fingers on their forelegs curled and stretched briefly, stretching the membrane between the bone. They shifted forward, the extended membrane on their leg and chest stretching painfully. They wheezed once more.

"Who are you?" they asked, breathing as if their lungs were fire and their throat were sandpaper. They watched with eyes too big for their skull, hog nose twitching slightly.

@Diánysma

The pale raven jumped as the creature stirred at her greeting. He'd been lying there in silence for so long that she was sure he was dead. Baby blue eyes stared up at her beady red ones. Then a tongue appeared. Diánysma raised both brows as a tongue much too large for such a small mouse lolled out, dripping and slimy, sliding over its jowls before disappearing again. "oh," she mouthed quietly. Surely that thing would hear her, with ears as big as those were!

Hello?

What did that mean? It was a greeting, right? It was the first word her god had spoken to her.

Hello.

"Hello," she spoke.

Diánysma watched bony fingers curl and uncurl, fleshy pink membrane between them stretching to their very limits. The same went for the membrane from their ribs to their wrists. It almost looked painful... like this creature should not exist. For the moment, the raven was conflicted. Should she end this poor sod's life quickly? Or should she make him suffer? For the moment, the creature's question would be unanswered, as the raven fell silent.

@Morpheus

Perhaps they hadn't heard them. "Who are you?" they rasped quietly, blinking. "I am Morpheus." It was an instinctive thing to say - the words simply tumbled from their sandpaper throat and into the crisp air.

They paused. They reached out - another instinctive thing, they supposed. They didn't notice the dull shimmer coming from the stone between their shoulders as they tentatively touched the raven's wing, eyes wide.

Many images flashed before their eyes - of coughing and pained whines, of vomit and bursting boils. The stench of death filled their nostrils and for a moment it was as is they were there, in the middle of it all, among the dead and the mourning, lying in the piles of corpses burning and burning as putrid smoke billowed into the air.

They recoiled and snorted, the taste of ash and carrion remaining in their mouth for a moment. They gazed at the bleeding raven for a moment. "Death," they rasped simply; sounding as if there were still smoke trapped in their lungs. "You are Death."

Diánysma felt a bit of fermentation as the creature snapped her away from her thoughts again, once more asking who she was. She was about to perhaps respond when the creature cut her off, interjecting with his own name. Morpheus. Oddly fancy... and fun to say. "Morpheus," she repeated, but only once. Why? Well... a violet glow appeared from the back of the neonate's frail form. A bit wary to see what was about to occur, she took a step back.

A wet hog nose touched her.

Jumping back from the cold, she saw the batdog awaken from what appeared to be a trance. Death. She was... Death? Why, of course! She was the embodiment of Death itself! She smiled, rosy beak clacking. "I am Death, indeed." But did the child understand death itself? That... she wondered. "And what are you?"

@Morpheus

Are you becoming friends with this thing? She chuckled through the bond. Do what you will; infect him or conscript him to our will or kill him, but mind yourself. Gods do not make friends.

The raven heard a voice within her head, knowing it was that of her god's. In the sea of their conjoined minds, her form shook its head, sending white flecks out into the writhing mass of dark snakes. 'No. I plan to gain its trust... to perhaps make some use of such a strange creature.'

@Belladonna

The bird they had promptly dubbed as Death looked thoughtful. Before that, it had seemed content, perhaps happy. Morpheus quickly put this down as to being pleased with his own ability to figure out the bird's identity in her mild silence.

But still, they had to consider their question. Something told them that Death knew all; which meant this had to have been a test. However, they were only about two minutes old, give or take. "It is veiled," the wheezing creature said. "I have emerged not to long ago. This very moment, in fact."

They lowered themselves onto their haunches with only a slight wince. The membrane connecting their legs to their chest was tight, pulling on their flesh and possibly the contributor to the soft wheezing sounds their lungs made whenever they breathed. They noticed Death did not have trouble breathing.

Death does not have to breathe, their mind told them, and they promptly noted that they could not tell whether or not Death was actually breathing. It went through his mind in the same time it took for them to sit down however; their rasping answer coming as fluid as water. "My purpose will be revealed to me in time," they sounded rather positive about this - as if they knew everything laid out for them already.

@Diánsyma