In the dead of night, beneath only shimmering aurora-light, a series of giant insectoid creatures flowed from beneath Ursa's surface. They were careful to not be seen, and their tracks were soon covered by drifting snow; ice-woven carapaces, like glass, shone as they went about their business. The workers carried small packages, guarded closely by the watchful Praetors, whose compound eyes gazed at the sky, the ground... No, they would not be seen.

But they left their presents for all to find.

These were carefully- and well-wrapped, as if by nimble fingers instead of clamping jaws: folded into multicolored red, white and green wrapping paper, flowing with golden ribbons. These presents--all relatively small--were left gently tucked away and carefully nestled throughout Ursa: beneath rocky overhangs, settled against the stems of frozen plants, or perched cheerfully on a time-bleached Icebeast skull.

Within these many lovingly-wrapped boxes could be found a multitude of gifts.

Entirely harmless gifts.

Gifts to show Mother's goodwill to all Gembound. Nothing more. Not at all.

These gifts were astonishing, really: a class of objects never before seen by the Gembound of the cave. They glittered in glass and metal--brass and copper, gold and silver, iron and steel. And many of them softly ticked, tiny clockwork gears forever in precision motion.

There were pocketwatches, many on small chains, with Roman numerals painstakingly painted or engraved. There were music boxes, delicately carved from wood or forged in shining metals, with little mirrors or figures that turned to tinkling music when wound. There were goggles, many bright with studded gemstones, ornate in their elaborate design, with protective glass eye-covers; there were, too, regular spectacles with perfectly round lenses. And these came in many colors, sizes, and styles.

Softly-clicking metronomes, their ticks quietly pulsing like some mechanized heartbeat through the confines of their boxes, lay in many of the presents. And kaleidescopes, with their lovingly-tooled metal shells hiding glorious rotating glass lenses, showing any Gembound capable of manipulating them a rainbow of shifting colors in a thousand mirrored shapes. Disc-shaped astrolabes, perhaps the size of dinner plates, held mysterious and again quite ornate discs and circles intended to be rotated across a series of charts beneath: some sort of clockwork system, it seemed, for tracing the movements of foreign stars, and a time unknown within the caves. And to that end, too, were star charts in miniature, engraved in bright gemstone, glittering as with real stars; these were in the form of small pendants, encased in metal and often on slender chains.

Lastly, some of these gifts contained clockwork creatures: specifically, the ant-like creatures that had carried them here--Praetors and Cleaners both. They were of blue and gray metals, and glass: they were each perfect, and when wound, moved forward in graceful yet mechanical steps.

Each of these gifts was incredibly complex, beautiful to look upon, advanced beyond Origin's technology; each was a masterwork of sophisticated clockwork, an aesthetic perfection to each and every piece.

And each was, of course, perfectly and completely safe.

Action. Thought. "Speech."

So the little fox found himself in ursa. why? because his ever growing curiosity was bound to kill him one of these days. mostly here because, by word of mouth, he heard some weird shit was goin on in those snowy mountains and he's here to find WHAT.

he shivered as he walked through the chilly cave, but mostly because he hadn't ever truly been cold. sure, maybe wet, but this was more or less a dry, windy cold than a wet one.

he had wandered around, looking for really anything that stood out against the grey and white expanse and, low and behold, gifts! small ones, incredibly small, but the little brightly wrapped boxes were just enough to peak his interest and he was DEDICATED to carry as much as he could. which could be around 4-5 boxes, if he could balance a few on his back with his tail as support. he walked around carefully, paws leaves delicate tracks in the snow, as he bumped a few into his paws, placing 4 on his back to carry gently and another 2 in his jaws. if he was being greedy, he wouldn't know it. to him, this was all for knowledge.

he'd walk away from the site for a moment, sitting carefully on a rock a bit ways away from the gifts, to open the ones he had collected.

First of all was one of the fancy pairs of goggles, which he looked at with such wonder he almost dropped it. the goggles themselves were a beautiful silver, with what looked like knobs and gears on the sides of the goggles themselves for adjustment, a black leather strip to hold them to the wearers head. the lenses were, when looked through, clear and incredibly shiny, though from the outside they seemed to look like crystals, shining with different shades of blue and yellow. on one side of the goggles was 2 adjustable lenses meant for what seemed to be closer, careful inspection, while the other had a device that, to those who knew what they were, looked akin to a microscope. it wasn't at all fancy or near current 2020 technology, but it was basic and steampunk in nature, and did its, seeming, intended job.

the second was a star chart engraved into a crystal pendant, the crystal itself a shining purplelish blue, and the carvings lined with gold. beautiful and interesting, questions forming in forgraves head as he observed.

third was one of the clockwork creatures, and, unaware of its seeming unsentience at first, forgraves jumped backward to avoid being BIT, could it come to life. however, as it didnt, he padded back towards it, examining it. he messed with the wind key on the back and in awe watched as it moved on its own in a mechanical fashion. not alive, just a toy. he sighed in relief, smiling widely.

the fourth was a pair of spectacles, with large, brown frames and clear lenses. a perfect fit for forgraves, as the goggles were aswell. he set them aside for the last.

the fifth was a simple pocketwatch, one that, for who knew how to use it, would be used for keeping time. it ticked happily and forgraves smiled at the satisfying tone. it was gold, with roman numerals, and the chain was also gold, pristine in condition.

the last, and possibly his favorite, was a small, 3D astrolabe. it wasnt a familiar planetary system, if he even knew what those were, but it was QUITE interesting, and paired with his star chart, he would be doing alooot of research.

he smiled at all of these gifts, and we, the audience, waited for consequences.

Tahi-shei did not like Ursa. He knew what lurked here; he knew what he had to be careful of. But passing through it was a necessary evil; Pegasus and Draco both lay beyond. Today, though, as he was passing through, he noticed several brightly-colored little parcels, all clustered together and tucked between rocks near the edge of the cave wall. They seemed to have been laid there as if ripe for finding, and his eyes narrowed as he approached. Still a cautious distance away, but investigating the small cluster of items closely. Mother lurked everywhere in this cave, infecting it, lighting it up like a... well, like a Christmas tree. He couldn't turn around without finding an infected Lesser.

He wanted to make sure there were no spores here before he bothered messing with it.

The gifts are all entirely harmless. Tahi-shei would sense no fungal remnants on any of these.

They are gestures of Mother's love.

They are perfectly safe.

Action. Thought. "Speech."

as he silently waited for something else to happen, he smiled. nothing did. they were just trinkets. he should go show sheng!
he looked to tahi, waving as he grabbed his goodies and left. he'd LOVE to show these to azzy!

exit!

Well, if the cluster of boxes were safe... He approached them and rolled them slightly towards him, prodding at them with his hooves like they were enrichment toys until they started to pop open. He tilted his head to look at them as he'd been doing unconsciously for about two weeks now, leaning closer than he should have had to in order to get a good look at the array of treasures presented to him. His eyes grew wide, and he immediately started to consider how he could possibly move these things.

The two objects on chains -- the pocket watch and the star chart -- were simple enough. He just angled his head awkwardly until he'd caught both of them either on his antlers or around his neck and that was that. But the astrolabe -- which seemed to have moving parts, now that he investigated it -- and the metronome would be much harder to carry. He could have probably done one of each in his mouth, but that wouldn't have worked very well for both of them. The astrolabe also looked rather heavy. He frowned, his heart dropping at the prospect of leaving them behind -- but then, he realized that he could very well just come back for more later. So he would.

Tahi-shei would spend some time making two or three trips, eventually leaving with one astrolabe, one metronome, two star charts (one was for James), and a pocket watch in total -- where he stored them was anyone's guess, but honestly, it was probably James's house.

/exit tahi-shei

Kethri swooped in and landed on a rock, blending in perfectly with the environment. Originally she was hunting, aiming to grab a sparrow or a rabbit to eat. Hunting in Ursa was easier than hunting in Pegasus, despite the long flight home, since her plumage was more visible in the colorful landscape.

But this was a welcome surprise. Gifts! Her children could possibly enjoy these...

She approached a box and opened it with her deft claws, numb due to the burns. She peered inside and pulled out a pocket watch, inspecting it gently. How curious... it seemed to click on a rhythm, and upon further inspection, the hands could be inspected. It seemed to count seconds... minutes... hours. A time teller. Oh this would be immensely useful.

She looped that one around her neck and pulled out a pair of goggles. Perfect for Arquia if she ever decided to be useful and fly. And... a music box. She turned the key and listened to it play, her eyes softening. Anselm could like this. Perhaps it could help them sleep.

Presents selected, she set them in the box and grasped it tightly, picking it up and taking to the sky. She let out a shrill shriek as she took off, the presents heavy. She'd deal with it.

Exit Kethri

Kitty, however, gave no concern whatsoever to whether or not they were safe. The glimmer of bright colors in the snow had caught her eye on the way to Pegasus, and she'd torn into the boxes without a second thought (although she did scavenge three ribbons in various colors -- one red, one green, and one yellow, each of which she looped gently around her tail). Her heart was thumping excitedly as she scurried around like a child on Christmas morning, until she discovered... a music box.

Kitty was absolutely mystified. She sat there staring at it as the music played over and over again each time she wound it up. It was some kind of gorgeous, dark wood with metal accents on it, and had a small mirror inside plus a pair of vaguely humanoid figures (they were too small to be too detailed) made of glass who were dancing on an elegant track to the melody. She eventually shut the lid, gingerly and with the utmost care, before clutching it tightly to her chest with one arm and continuing to look around bright-eyed for more toys with the other for balance.

She also found a star chart, which went firmly around her neck, and a pocket watch, which she was able to actually open and oh, wasn't that just fascinating! She stared at that for a while, too, before doing the same -- around her neck, and off she'd go. She found a kaleidoscope, which was marvelous with her ability to move it (thank the Spire for giving her thumbs!), and a clockwork ant thing -- it was the smaller one lacking the stinger, and both of those went carefully in her mouth so that they could be effectively carried, hopefully without scratching or breaking them. She also found a small astrolabe, which had been boring at first until she'd poked at it and it had spun into three dimensions. That had been pilfered, too.

Next she stumbled across a pair of spectacles -- wide, black circles that could balance surprisingly well on the bridge of her nose. They warped her vision, though, so she carefully pushed out the lenses, making sure not to break the sturdy metal frames, and put them back on. Then she grabbed a pair of shiny, gemstone-studded goggles and put those on over top of the spectacles, still wide-eyed and excited.

Then, just for good measure, she grabbed a metronome, too, and stumbled her way out of Ursa slowly and with several breaks because she was forced to walk on her hind legs. Getting all of this home would be a challenge, but she didn't want to risk messing it up with Slimespace -- it was all too pretty for that.

Eventually, Kitty made her exit, armed with a music box, a metronome, a pair of round, black spectacles with no lenses, a pair of gemstone-studded goggles, a kaleidoscope, a pocket watch, a star chart, a three-dimensional astrolabe, a clockwork Cleaner, and three long, cloth ribbons -- one in red, one in green, and one in yellow.


/exit kitty

The Sentinel plodded through the snow, oblivious to the cold, dutiful in his demeanor. He was silent, his half-grown form lanky now, his awareness of the two babysitters behind him dim. That is to say, he was aware of them--of Chaos-Two and of Garnet-Delta watching over him, and the others--but they did not concern him overmuch.

They were on a foray to observe Ursa for anything strange, and this--this was strange; but he could not wander alone. This was for searching, while protected. Learning, while guided. Training, while relatively safe.

He could see the tracks of others in the snow, but Ursa was a large cave. The Sentinel stood upright, leaning back a little, inhaling deeply the odors carried faint on the bitter wind. Something warm, distant-... no; it was gone. There were others here, but not close. But-... What was this?

A ticking reached his ears, a quiet, muffled like click, again and again in perfect rhythm. He turned, head cocking to one side, the glowing eyes atop his ears peering as he listened.

"There is a sound," he declared, aloud, for those of his watchers who could hear him; and then he set out to uncover it.

Time and diligence brought him to a half-covered mound of snow and here, he found a small wrapped box: all greens with silver ribbon, the cold powder drifted to conceal it. The Sentinel regarded it for a time in silence, observing it. But the box did nothing more: it only ticked, tick, tick, ticking away in the snow, motionless and still.

And so the Hound lifted it, and brushed it off with clawed fingers, and--after giving it a long sniff, and finding little odor still attached--he began to pry at it. He did not know what wrapping was, or ribbons; he didn't know that boxes were intended to contain another thing. He knew this was ticking, like a heartbeat, and so he set out now to uncover the source of the sound.

Claws held it delicately, then shredded the cardboard: tearing it open, heedless of the destruction of colorful perfection. And within--wrapped carefully in paper--he found a pocketwatch.

It was dark metal, like smoked steel; he lifted this, feeling it cold on his palm, and studied it. A chain hung down from it, and a small pair of knobs protruded from one side; when he pried at this, carefully, the watch popped open.

A glassy lens--quickly fogged by his breath as he raised it to inspect it--protected the display within: a tiny clock, its hands racing not only over numbers, but over a black backdrop studded with a few tiny, glittering gems placed like stars. There were hues of purple and blue in the watch's face, like a night he'd never seen. Its hands were lined with pearl.

What was this-?

Puzzled, he looked it over again. He turned it in his hands, this way and that; and then he decided, abruptly, that this would be his.

He turned, trudging back, and announced as much.

"It has found a thing," he declared, speaking of himself--as was his wont--in the third person. Squeaky puppy voice had given way to a deepening rasp, though it wasn't deliberately hostile. "The Sentinel will keep it." Declarations of fact such as these were not common with the beast. He was obedient, respectful. Never had he simply claimed something; never had he refused an order. But this, it seemed, was--in his mind, at least--his, for reasons unknown, and untold.

Black claws lifted to show his watchers the watch--and then clapped the lid shut, and closed around it to claim it again. "It is good," he told them.

Talys didn't like Ursa much, either, but considering how much he went to Pegasus, it was usually pretty crucial to pass through here. Naturally, he kept to the edges -- it was cold here, and he didn't have warm enough clothing for snow. It was warmest at the very edges of the room. However, it was also at the edges here that he found some gifts as he hurried along -- he wasn't interested in more necklaces, although the watch was pretty cool. Instead, he ended up pilfering an astrolabe -- it was good metal, even if the turning was interesting, and he had big ideas for it -- and a pair of pretty goggles, plus a kaleidescope that he was distracted by for several minutes until he realized that his feet had gone numb and he needed to leave before he got frostbite.


/exit talys