Tangled among the trees' roots along the edge of the path was a colorful pebble. It was a pretty reddish-purple, like a ripe plum that had fallen right off the branch. Some might mistake it for some poor lost soul's gemstone. It was just about the right size, easy to imagine nestled in the chest of a cat or the skull of a deer.

Well. It did hold life, in a sense.

It was like a switch flipped. One moment it was calm and quiet. The second the gemstone was buzzing from within with an agitated sort of energy.

And then a spear-like beak pierced through the shell of the chrysalis. A couple more jabs, and the hole was big enough for the baby hummingbird's head to fit through as well. A minute or so of struggle and the hatchling was shaking off the minuscule shattered remains of it's chrysalis, wobbling out of the tangle of roots and towards the open path.


Of course, you might not even notice, unless you're particularly observant.