Gosh, what a gloomy tunnel. Cold, dim, and quiet with nothing but the bubbling creek to keep her company. It was a nice creek, though, in that it was shallow and clear and conveniently provided the silverlings wriggling along absolutely no shelter from Hera's eyes.

She swooped down, scooping up two of the glittering creatures in her talons. Small, but they made up for it with how easy they were to catch. They went down her gullet one after another like singular cherry tomatoes on miniature skewers. Okay, so maybe they'd have to try a little harder to make up for their size. Hera was sure there'd be better prey around in the next room. But maybe she'd give this tunnel just one more chance.

Annnnnnd her generosity in offering second chances to this dismal place was clearly misplaced, because a cursory glance at the creek yielded no promising results. All the fish were just as tiny and pathetic as one another, which kind of made sense given the size of the creek. An image of a fat redfang struggling to flop through its shallow waters appeared unbidden in Hera's head, and she giggled to herself.

Okay, but did this tunnel have any redeeming features? The tunnel from Polaris to Ursa was just as short and boring. Seriously, why did everything connected to Ursa have to be so lackluster? It wasn't like the snowy room itself wasn't pretty enough, with its glimmering auroras.

Well, this was enough dawdling. The place seemed totally forsaken; there probably wasn't any point in paying this much attention to a mere tunnel when it had nothing of interest. Time to move on.

Hera dipped her claws into the creek to wash off the fish slime, then took flight. The Cepheus entrance was pretty much the only thing of note, with glittering gems and figurines embedded around it. Actually... those were kind of pretty. What if she just... took one? They didn't belong to anyone, right? Hera glanced around surreptitiously. She'd heard there were more people once you got into these next caves. Would they judge her for taking something? She didn't think there was anything wrong with taking long-abandoned stuff, but... maybe she should find someplace to stash things until she returned. Y'know, so any other people with the same idea couldn't take what Hera liked.

Ah! There was an alcove or two over there; those looked nice. Hera flapped over to investigate, landing next to one and taking a peek.

The alcove itself was almost nothing to see: a little divot of piled rocks nestled around a small hollow. A long-abandoned scrap of leather lay beside a tuft of bushy, mint-smelling plants, and a few flowers graced the other side.

However, a small gap--visible only to a very keen eye--led from this alcove to another, unseen space beyond. It definitely looked as though it were meant to be hidden, with overgrowth having nearly sealed it, but perhaps an eagle could wriggle through..?

@Hera

Huh! So there was something interesting to be found in this tunnel after all. Hera pecked at a mint-smelling leaf--maybe it tasted good, too?--and eyed the flowers thoughtfully. Colorful enough that perhaps she could dye her feathers with their crushed petals--? Or, y'know, she could just be patient and wait until she reached Pegasus. Much as Hera disliked the idea of remaining drab a moment longer, there wasn't enough here to make much of a difference anyway.

The dimness was really grating on her nerves, though. With a slight frown of concentration, Hera summoned a bright ball of pink-gold light. She clicked her beak, pleased with how it had turned out. Just because she was all grey didn't mean her magic had to be, too!

She sent it drifting in a circle, illuminating the alcove. She'd thought she'd seen... something interesting in the dark, but finding it again was a pain. Ah, there! A gap in the plants? Maybe big enough for her? Well, it was certainly hidden, but was someone else using it? It kind of looked intentional.

Without a moment's hesitation, Hera attempted to wriggle through, taking her light with her. What, did you expect her to leave something like this alone? No!! What if there was something cool inside?! Monsters probably couldn't fit into such small spaces, anyway.

The little alcove held... strange objects in it. Very strange.

None would be things Hera was likely to recognize. And worst still, it was clear that over the years, there'd been more here--much more--but that the damp and simple time (along with the bacteria, insects and more) had gradually worn the rest away. Any leather or cloth was long-gone; old paper or wood had long ago vanished.

But the glass, beady eyes and rainbow-painted stone horn (chipped and worn) of a toy unicorn lay here, on the rock. Beside it, an ancient pepper shaker, its metal top rusted near-shut, with just a smidge of ground black pepper still within. And last the wire frame of a lampshade long-abandoned, its metal tarnished nearly black.

Who had left these things here, and why-? There seemed no rhyme or reason to it, beyond the sort of thing a red mouse might stash away--but these things were far too large for a little mouse to carry. Someone's ancient, personal trove of oddities, perhaps-? No answer was immediately clear.

@Hera

The place was not all that pleasant: a bit dank, actually, and everything inside was dilapidated and falling apart. Or--already fallen apart. But maybe her coral-pink orb of photons was making her see everything in the same rosy light, because Hera thought it was fascinating. Yes, they were old, but that was their entire charm: she probably wouldn't have paid much attention to new-looking toys that probably belonged to someone living.

But this? This was old old. Maybe even older than the awakening of everyone she knew. As old as the Masters, even...? Hera cautiously touched a talon to the painted horn, half-expecting the other, rusted objects to fall apart at the lightest prodding. All of the stuff here looked fairly innocuous: the black-tarnished wire frame was probably the most nefarious-looking thing here. But the unicorn horn drew her attention not only because it looked the most durable and colorful--it seemed like a fun trinket, something a hatchling might have gnawed on, played with, or even painted themselves. And that was another thing! There were so many colors on the thing, but it was clear from the chipped surface that it was only plain stone underneath. How had the ancient gembound managed to make so many colors, and ones that could permanently dye stone?

It seemed like a good time and place to try the magic that let people see into the past. Hera touched a talon to the stone horn, summoning a spark of magic.

The trickle of water behind Hera grew muffled. The foliage hiding this place thickened, spread, until she was perched in a little alcove well-hidden from the tunnel's river.

"Stay in the darkness," came a very soft warning, a near-whisper, and a shape--something the size of a large dog, perhaps, and thickly-furred--crept forward. There was a ruffle of clawed hand on head, and large eyes blinking upward.

Both sets of eyes glowed: the speaker's a bright green, the child's a green-blue. They provided the only light within the alcove.

The child beneath the speaker was crouched, hiding, the strange soft toy clutched in chubby paws. She leaned down, and rested her face in the toy's white fur, its painted rainbow horn. "I will... but how long do we have to stay here?" she asked, plaintive.

This question was met with silence. There was grief in the larger creature's gaze, in the pained narrowing of its glowing eyes.

"How long..? I miss Mom. When's she coming?" Little arms clutched the toy closer.

The larger creature closed its eyes--and-... ...sound came rushing back, the foliage clearing; the light returning.

Hera was left with only the chipped horn, and empty stone beneath.

@Hera

She was transported to another time. The alcove then was overgrown, and much darker--but there was a sense that the darkness might actually provide safety. That the danger came from without, rather than the darkness itself. Still, having nothing but the creatures' eyes to illuminate the space was slightly unnerving, especially coupled with the tension that seemed to pervade the memory.

It didn't tell Hera everything. She had gleaned a few things from the memory: danger, the need to hide, and the knowledge that death was a real possibility even in a seemingly peaceful place. But she had no idea who these Gembound were, what they were hiding from, or what their fates had been--and while she could make a few guesses, none of them particularly cheerful, she would rather have known for sure. Again she reached out with magic, pulling another glimpse of the toy's past into her mind.

The little white plush toy (discolored by dirt, and worn by time) lay silent among abandoned treasures. Boxes, wrapped in rotting brown paper, tied with twine, had been stashed back here. A musical instrument--something with strings, like a little banjo--and a couple shining, misshapen raw gemstones, and a silvered (already tarnishing) chain and locket all lay together back here, among other things.

A few feathers.

Sheaves of plants, perhaps edible, already wilting and rotting, licked by consuming fungus.

Hera was seeing the long, slow decay of this abandoned stash--some point between the first vision, and now. Whatever had happened, these things had been abandoned--and, over the years, particular pieces had been found and scavenged, taken away.

This was all that was left.

@Hera