The sodden Champion of Hydra was not looking so much like a Champion at all, today. It was still some hours before dawn, and the storm in Eridanus was raging. The rain was absolutely torrential: a near-deafening constant roar of water, punctuated only with cracks of thunder. The flashes of lightning that came before were the only thing to illuminate the darkness, made harder to see through by the sheets of rain and the roiling mist.

He'd carefully-hidden the three gemstones--along with a number of others two which he had not yet given life. But these three--he'd come back, after awakening from his chrysalis. Hydra had been hot, hellish, but Shango had already nearly forgotten it--or, rather, he wasn't thinking about it. He had a new scorpion tail, which was nice to have, and a new title of which he was proud (though it seemed meaningless so far--nobody's come up to offer him Free Champion Food or anything like that). Life itself had remained the same. Prowl, hunt, lounge around on tree branches, sun himself, call rain when he was bored. He was half-convinced he'd accidentally brought about this storm himself: he'd created some rain, and then it just... hadn't let up. It had gotten worse, and worse, and now it was just roaring all the time.

Sometimes, he roared back.

And though he loved the storms, his priority now were the stones to which he'd given life. He suspected they might hatch. He'd rushed back with the fear that they'd washed away, but he'd found them swollen with growing Gembound within, too heavy for only the rain to take from him. The ones he'd hidden away were still buried, though now with mud, and he'd given up digging those up to check on them in favor of lying wet-cat-miserable on those three that had grown.

One was a shining blue aquamarine, for which he held high hopes. He couldn't say why, but he'd been drawn to this one from the first, protective of it more than the rest. Then there was a beautiful peridot, whose color reminded him of his eyes, and a natural pink pearl. The pearl was the largest, heavy and too large for him to move even if he'd wanted to. He had no idea what might come out, but he laid close to them nonetheless. He had no idea, either, if his warmth got through to them, but he hoped it did. He had kept half-eaten rats lying nearby for when the children hatched (not even considering that they might be herbivorous) but he kept getting hungry and eating them, so there were only a couple waiting.

Shango pushed up, moving off of the peridot to the pearl. He was taking it in shifts to warm them, hoping that they'd stay that way. Because damn, for high summer, it was sure cold and wet out here.

It was mostly dark, out there. The shadow that had come and gone, the warmth it had provided, had gone unnoticed to the sleeping unborn child within. Only in the last few hours had her mind slowly, gradually begun to stir, in a groggy sort of fashion; and only now did the pearl crack, splintering along its opaque length.

Shango's light weight atop it pushed the broken stone in, some, and perhaps over the thunder he did not hear it. But the faint influx of cool air, the scent of rain, earth and storm, reached the baby within.

Slowly she stirred, awareness coming to her. She became aware of the cold, the rain, the roar of the storm. She became aware of the source of warmth above, and she wanted to get closer to it. Slowly she twisted within the rock, instinct driving her--and then she found that she had a body, and that she controlled it.

Neat.

Though her limbs tangled and flailed weakly within the chrysalis, she managed to push herself mostly upright. Broad head complete with blunt newborn horns (and on snout and the back of the head both, no less) emerged, ghostlight eyes blinking from within a pearl-covered face. The rhino-horn bumps along her snout helped her to push free and she shook her head to knock away the pearl shards that covered her.

She couldn't see much. Everything was dark, with lots of little things moving in it. And it was cold out here.

But there was a pair of glowing things very, very close, and she leaned toward it to inspect it, flaring her nostrils and snorting warm air in surprise.

@Shida

Whatever storm was raging on the outside, whatever shadows came and fell, how the temperatures warmed or cooled, she was oblivious, sleeping soundly, perfectly warm, perfectly comfortable. She hadn't any intention of coming out anytime soon, unless someone made her. Occasionally, there was a sort of pressure coming down on top of her, but she couldn't feel it in her deep slumber. Not until now, when a loud crack jerked her awake.

Her flooding into consciousness was quite abrupt - one moment she was dreaming, floating in the gentle caress of the world before life, the next she was jerking awake and the stone around her was splintering. She blinked, glowing pupils moving up to look at where the green world was cracking. As she watched, a portion of it shattered away and, suddenly, the world wasn't so green. The fluid around her was seeping out, the warmth draining away, replaced by cold and a roaring sound.

Curiosity drove her forward, even though the world beyond was dangerous - the roaring noise should have scared her, the cold should have discouraged her, but now that she was awake and alive, she didn't want to stay here anymore.

Her tiny face poked from the peridot stone, only to be met with the underside of some creature's body. How strange. Apparently, she wasn't alone. That only fed into her need to see more. She squeaked with protest, trying to squeeze her way out of both the small hole in her gem and the body of the creature on top of her. She wriggled and fought before one of her hooves kicked forward and smacked against the peridot. Immediately, it collapsed and she fell forward with a smack onto the wet ground. That was one barrier out of the way.

But there was still the matter of the creature above her. She continued to try and squeeze out, but he was heavier then her - and bigger - and she barely managed to poke her head out from underneath his golden fur.

@Shango

When the pearl shifted beneath him, Shango at once moved. He turned, eyes widening, to see a soft pink-white thing emerging from the stone. Excitement thrilled through him, his ears coming up, his tail lashing lightly; watching with quiet chirps and purrs as the first of the children emerged. He touched his nose to Ivory's as she reached for him.

"Child," he told her, excited--and then the peridot nearby, too, was shattering. He shifted away, turning to face that one, his excited noises only increasing. Forgotten was the storm above: now what was important was this family, new and his own. He didn't feel what a parent might--no real responsibility, or authority, though the protectiveness was somewhat there. Instead it was like being granted sudden siblings: excitement, joy at what might be. Like having new friends!

He reached his nose for this new creature's, too; she looked like him, he was startled to see. His birdlike talons carefully plucked away stray shards of peridot, trying to help her out. Excited, he danced between them, from one to the other. One was large: pale, bulky, shining. The other looked like him, like storms and jungle and spots. "Ivory," he murmured at the first, dancing briefly around her. She was ivory, after all; it wasn't a very creative name. She was the off-white, creamy color of bones and tusks, and she had horns, and little jutting canines like he did. And the other--"Shiiiiida," he chirruped. "Stoooorm. I'm Shango. Storm." After a moment he got ahold of himself, managing an actual sentence.

"Welcome. You are Ivory. You are Shida. We are family."

She exhaled warmly, eyes widening, when a nose touched her own.

And then she sneezed. The air was cool around her, cold, even, compared to what it had been within her chrysalis. It was all strange, and new, and a little too overstimulating; she hauled herself out with a grunt, shaking herself and looking clumsily around.

Ivory--that was her name?--staggered, and collapsed back to her belly in the moss. She was a heavy child. But she watched as "Shango" went to "Shida"--and her mind was already trying to learn these names--and she noted that those two looked the same. She looked down at herself, briefly; she was creamy tan-white. She didn't ascribe any meaning to this--just took confused note of it--and then looked around again. There was water falling all over, and flashes, and roars in the air. Green shaking things trembled in the dark, all around, and she at first cowered down a little, and then let out a tiny, squeaking bellow in defiance against the terrifying storm.

Then she staggered to her feet, again, stumbling over to the one called Shida, collapsing into the moss again closer to this one. Another that'd just come from her stone, the same as Ivory had. She wasn't sure what all this meant, but she was sure that this whole "family" thing had something to do with it, and she'd rather be closer to them than farther away, at least for now.

@Shida

The pressure was suddenly lifted and the little one suddenly felt herself moving. Something scraped against her hide - not painful at all, but it surprised her. She flinched and fell the rest of the way out of her chrysalis, finally free from both that gemstone cage and the weight of the parent.

She glanced up at the thing in front of her. "Shango", he called himself. He looked at her and said a word that sounded like "Shida". So, that was her name, was it? She tilted her head, attention moving to the other one, the one he called "Ivory". This...this was a family. That was her sister, wasn't it? And her father was Shango.

As Ivory crawled closer, she did the same, suddenly feeling a shiver from the cold winds that rippled over her naked hide. There were barely any feathers on her neck - just tiny, little baby stubble. She crawled up close to Ivory as she sat herself in the mosses nearby and pressed herself against the larger sister's body, looking up at Shango, as if waiting for him to do something.

"Storm?" she chirped, curiously. "Who is Storm?" And as she sat there, curled up against Ivory's side and looking up at Shango, who was the first light of happiness in her life, she decided that she'd do whatever she could to protect them. If anyone tries to hurt them or take their happiness away, they'll regret it.

@Shango

Shango watched the two children, a sort of blank, confused awe overtaking him. He wasn't sure how life could just spring up, like this--even if he did logically know, even if he'd deliberately done it himself. There was just something so strange about it. Magic could create storms, yes--but life itself..?

He paced quickly over, curling his larger, warm form around both children, lying down and gazing up into the rain.

"That is a storm. Rain--the water falling. The thunder--" and here he interrupted himself to make a poor imitation, with his mouth, of crashing lightning--"And fog." His tail flicked slightly, the curved scorpion point and its surrounding scalefeathers lightly twitching toward the sky as he thought. He looked at them both, rapt, then up into the storm, then back to the two children.

"You are storm! I am storm." He paused, and considered making a demonstration of this. But his magicka flickered to other means, and he had another idea, instead. "We make storms, with magic. Or other things, with magic. Here," he added, as a banana simply appeared before him. This he split in half with a twist of his jaws and a pin of his birdlike forelimbs. He tossed one half to land just before Ivory, and the other, Shida.

"That is magic. Good to eat. And it makes you shiny," he added, proud of all of this: of his children, of his having made them, of how smart they obviously were.

Ivory listened quietly. She nudged up against Shida--she didn't know her, really, but this was family, apparently, and toward them she already felt some warmth. She, like Shida, felt protective of them both, some natural guardian instinct in her already kicking in.

"Storm," she repeated softly, looking skyward--but it didn't capture her the way it apparently captured Shango.

The banana, however--now that was another story entirely. The scent caught her attention at once, and she found herself salivating, her stomach immediately greedy for it. Her broad snout lowered, her muzzle nosing softly at it. After a moment she munched it down--peel and all, the sweet squish of fruit leaving her closing her eyes in satisfaction. "Good," she decided. "Magic?"

Rounded ears cupped toward Shango as she turned to peer awkwardly back at him. Her entire body now shone and sparkled with the banana's magic.

She was learning things already, if gradually. First, that the rain was unpleasant, and cold. Even folding her tiny, baby-tattered wings across her back did little to help shield her against it, and what fell in from among the leaves above still had her drenched within minutes. Second, the loud noises were loud, unpleasant, and a little scary. Shango didn't seem afraid, though, so she tried to ignore them, though she pressed down against the dirt a little more. And third, banana tasted good. She found herself searching the ground for more, though she'd eaten hers already. Her nibbling found, instead, a little foliage--and she satisfied herself at once with this, pulling in a few blades of grass, a couple leaves, and munching on them quietly.

@Shida

Shida looked up at the storm as Shango spoke, her nose wrinkling a bit with disdain. She wasn't sure she liked this "storm" all very much - it was loud and cold and she would rather be nice and dry and warm. The fog too - quite ugly, really, and it made her furless skin feel damp and heavy. She wondered if it was optional to make storms with this magic. If she could do other thigns, like make it hot. She shrugged. It didn't matter to her.

The appearance of the banana didn't seem to impress her all the much, but she still curiously pulled her head forward and snapped up the half Shango presented to her. A small pink tongue ran over her lips, getting the last of the sparkling fruit off before her eyes bulged. The flavor...it was absolutely incredible! It danced over her tongue and made all her senses feel alive. She looked back at herself, curious, and was rather surprised to see that, just as Shango had said, it had made her shiny. She leaned forward, tongue flicking out to touch her skin curiously, but it didn't taste strange and the glitter didn't go away. Was this magic?

That was weird. She wasn't sure she liked it very much. What was the point of being glittery? The banana had tasted good, yes, but she could do without the side effects. She turned back, fidgeting a little uncomfortable. "More?" she chirped, her stomach rumbling greedily.

@Shango

Well, at least the children seemed healthy. Both were eating; one was already learning of magic and storms!--sort of!--and one was asking for more food.

Good!

Shango declared himself, then and there, a successful father. (Shango also had very little idea of what successful parenting looked like.)

Another banana, though this one smaller, popped out of thin air. He carefully split this with his claws, but it was uneven; he gave the larger portion to Shida, since she'd been the one to ask for more.

"Shida," he said simply, as he pushed that to her, and "Ivory," to the other. He then lay close to Shida, peering up in the rain, extending out one scalefeathered wing to cover each child. He did this absently, lying catlike, one paw folded against his chest with his tail twitching its end far behind him. He certainly looked majestic--as Shida undoubtedly would, some day. Ivory... he wasn't so sure. A glance over the fatter, paler pup--pup? Cub? Kitten?--told him that it'd likely be a large but heavy beast, very unlike him.

Is this one even mine..? he wondered, but there were similarities there, too.

He shrugged.

The hybrid stared back up into the rain for a moment, wondering what to do next. Certainly he was now a successful father, but he wanted the children to be prepared for life in the caves. He didn't care if they stayed with him; he'd have gladly accepted their company, or just as easily accepted their departure. He himself had never had a parent. But he'd offer them what he could, while they were still here, at least.

"The caves are big," he began again, trying to explain what he knew. "Life is--finding food. Without being food. Other things--usually larger things--eat smaller things. If you are eaten, you die." With this wisdom imparted, he paused, laboriously thinking over what else he knew.

It was not, unfortunately, all that much.

"There are caves with water. Caves with forest--this one, and one with swamp. There is a hot cave. And a cold tunnel. And a cave full of bones. The caves are all large." Another long pause. His mind worked, the gears almost visibly turning. Never let it be said that Shango was among the brightest in the caves. "A hot cave, with lots of sand. Past the bone-cave. Don't go there. Things kill you, there, and then you are dead. Which means not alive. Back to sleep, forever." A twitch of his tail. "Maybe you eat plants. Maybe you eat little things. Don't eat things that can talk. Only rats. Mice. The deer that don't speak." This was a generally unspoken rule, but he didn't want his kids getting into trouble early on. Some had to learn this the hard way, he knew.

He then lay there, wings still sheltering the children as best he could, pondering what else he ought to teach them.