BLACK OPAL
For the first time I'm thinkin' about tomorrow

The black opal's webbed claws padded along the sandy shore of Moon Island, the clump of fungi still hanging from his jaws. His sides heaved as heavy breathes whistled out his nose. He had sprinted and swam as fast has he could from the Warrens in Picises and stopped for nothing. All the while, he feared of being followed, but so far, none pursued.

He paused, to catch his breath, and looked out over the great, shimmering channel. It only barrier separating his haven from Astraea. That Master had destroyed Mother, his home, and the link to his family. The oneness he felt with them, it was gone. No longer did he hear their thoughts, only the rhythmic rush of waves lapping the shore. Looking out over the vastness, the opal never felt more alone.

A heavy sigh left his nose and he ambled farther inland. Moon Island was cover in vegetation. There were many places to hide his piece of Mother. For awhile the Opal scoped out the area. He had to make sure both of them were well hidden, even from a distance.

Finally, he settled on a place towards the back. There was enough rocks and bushes to hide and the shore was not far off if he needed to dip. He placed the wad of fungi to the side and squeezed under some large bushes and began to dig. He wanted to dig a den big enough for both mother and him to share, but the eel-creatures nails were short an small, not good for digging through roots and soil and when he tried to shore up the walls the roof just collapsed down on his head. "Ah, Sandworms!" He stumbled back, head and neck caked with dirt. Sometimes, being slimy was a nuisance.

After washing off he trudged back and looked at the mess. It was a shoddy excuse for a nest. The sighed and grabbed the fungi, placing it on the soft dirt the thick of the bushes. This will have to do for now He backed out and observed the area. The black opal made a mental note to fortify the place better. All that mattered now was keeping new Mother alive.

He dove into the water and came back later with a fish struggling between his jaws. He bit down, killing it and trotted up to the nest and it next to the clump. The Opal sat back and watched through the leaves, waiting for it to consume his offering like Mother.

The clot immediately began to grow, and spread. It seemed the moisture wasn't bad for it, though undoubtedly should this area become flooded, it might drown. However, Fornax's regular waterline didn't seem to extend this high, judging by the darker stains along the rocks a little lower down. It seemed a good location for a nest.

Warm. Damp. "Good..."

The fish was quickly enveloped by fuzzy white, the rancid smell growing stronger. The threads crawled out over the wet dirt, and stretched up the bush, as well, engulfing the foliage, forming what looked almost like a snow-covered swathe of branches.

In moments, the foliage, too, was gone.

The white seemed to pulse, and search. A faint presence, now, could be felt in Opal's mind. Should the fungus be fed, tended, and protected, there was no doubt it could grow, here--but out in the open like this, it would be easily seen, and easily destroyed.

@Opal Three-Seven-Six