Catalyst was freezing. The mountains were cold. Cold, but beautiful. Even so, she had only paused for a brief second upon arriving to Ursa. To watch the lights as they danced. To wonder Mother had chosen such a beautiful home. Even through the cold, Catalyst felt Mother's warm touch. Mother urged Catalyst onward. A yawning tunnel gaped in front of her.

Mother urged her on. Through the tunnels. None of her siblings were here yet, were they? She directed the question at Mother. Mother assured her, siblings were here. Would be here. There was a brief, flitting memory. Not hers. Was it a memory? An experience? A moment, happening right then? There was a life behind it.

She felt a mental push. Mother needed her to move. She was a Harbinger, important to Mother's cause. The dissection of her experience could wait. She stalked through the dark tunnels. Her head turned at the various noises, a rock clattering, or the squeak of a lesser in the dark had her jumping, but Mother assured her the tunnels were safe. And she believed her. Another mouse passed by. Catalyst's legs tensed. She pounced, and knew it went wrong as soon as her feet left the ground.

She slipped on the ice, her balance went off. She saw a pale blur as she fell, and knew she still had a chance. But her teeth did not clamp down on something small and fuzzy. Her muzzle hit rock. Her TEETH hit rock. Catalyst cried out, clawing at her mouth. Nothing broken, but still. It hurt. A lot. Mother dulled the pain. Catalyst hoped Mother had not the awareness to see that.

She knew, instinctively, where to go. Which tunnels to follow. Mother told her. The deeper she got, the more lessers she saw. More of those snow white mice. But these did not fear her. They gazed at her openly, did not move, even as her claws landed near them. They were a part of Mother's family. Even lessers were deserving of her love.

And as she got closer, an odor grew stronger. Rotting, unpleasant. This was Mother's scent. It grew stronger, until she hit a room, where the scent was strongest. As if something had died. Was this her?

"Mother...?" She said, unsure.

It was understood--a warm apology whispered on winds of emotion through Catalyst's mind--that she would not yet be brought to Mother, truly. It would risk the family, after all. Only those who had been fully, wholly embraced could see where the rest had gathered--and oh, it would be a glorious sight!

...But patience. "Patience, my child."

Warmth.

Love.

Safety.

So long as she remained in these tunnels, she would be safe: and not alone, no. But her particular predicament--her cold skin, her cold blood--left Mother thoughtful. No, this was no place for the cold creatures, those with no fur, with sluggish pumps of their hearts. A suggestion, then--delicate. "You, of all my new children, understand what it is to be cold. (I love you.) Wouldn't it be lovely for you to choose one of these caves, and prepare it for others like you-? You know, better than anyone, what you need to be warm. (I care for you.) What do you think?" Gentle, prodding, tentative; could Catalyst find some method to keep a tunnel warm? Be it magic, or something more mundane..?

"Manage this, and I will send my children to help you, when you are done. (You are safe with me.)"

@Catalyst

Mother was not here. She could smell her, the strength of Mother's scent in the tunnel. But it was bare. Icy. A talon clicked the ice. She was restless. She wanted to be close. Mother urged patience. And Catalyst, she wanted to do as she said. Catalyst craved the approval. The closeness. The family. To be truly embraced. It hit an instinctive urge deep within. And knowing she wasn't next to Mother hurt.

The thought she wasn't trusted stung more than the cold of the mountains. But the sting fueled a blazing need. A need to prove herself. Mother's reassuring hand comforted her. She was among family in these tunnels. She felt the desire to butt her head against her, but there was only cold stone here.

Catalyst need only follow Mother's commands. She was to make warmth. Make the tunnels more hospitable for gembound like her. She shivered, as with Mother's words, the cold crept back into her awareness. So single-minded had she been on this quest for Mother, for emotional warmth, she'd nearly forgotten herself. Her physical warmth. That wouldn't happen again.

She thought back. Glory had known how to use fire, to make things with heat. Catalyst remembered the warmth of his forge. She would replicate that somehow. But furs were simpler. She'd gather that, then try to find fire. Wherever that might be. Catalyst had her doubts she'd find it in Ursa. After thinking on it, Catalyst nodded. "Yes Mother," She said, her breath fogging in the cold. Her gold eyes blinked once. Slow, as a cat might. "I will look. I will find furs and fire. To keep us warm." She turned to leave, trotting out.

;temporary exit

The numbing cold of the mountains was numbed by the sheer force of mother's love, but it was still incredibly cold. He shuddered as he made his way through the snowy cave with a single-minded focus. He knew his siblings were here. Would be here. Were already here. Mother told him this, as she urged him towards Home.

He crouched the best he could through the smaller ice tunnels. It was cold, and dark. Noises echoed through the tunnel- the skittering of claws against ice, the occasional falling rock or drip of water. Any reservations he would've had about this place, however, were smoothed over by Mother's gentle hand. It was Safe. Mother said so.

The unpleasent scent of Mother got stronger and stronger as he got closer and closer. He knew another of his siblings had gone to help, to gather warmth for those who could not warm themselves. But he wanted to help- he had to help. "Mother, I must help." He spoke, his voice a quiet hum, still all too loud within the quiet tunnels. "How can I help you?"

A brush, a hug, an embrace--"You are trusted," that sensation whispered. And then, fleeting memories of others who had come before; of battle and the grief of the loss of minions beloved family. "But others may not be, and we must protect those we love..."

Then Catalyst was gone, and Morpho had come; and the same urges were sent toward the creature. "My beloved child," that sensation said, all floods of love and cherishing and joy to find him here. And his offer-! So kind, so appreciated; Mother's gratitude flooded him. My, she was proud of this newest child, and how thoughtful he was! A mental nudge, then, toward Catalyst; a further opening of the link between the two.

"Find that one, beloved one. Find Catalyst, and aid her in her task. We must bring warmth to these tunnels, for you and those like you."

The warmth of Mother, however, lingered.

@Catalyst (for visibility as well) @Morpho