Trade.

He'd seen it the moment his talons had dug up the dead. The law of give and take that ran the caves. Two rats that'd crushed and hurt, someone had hurt back and buried the bodies under stone slabs. Creatures took their fill from the world and it reclaimed every drop of life from them once they passed. That's simply how it was—an exchange, neither cruel nor kind, but indifferent.

No wonder Gembounds were the same. Products of their environment, they grasped the lessons taught and applied them to their fellows. Pain for pain, now service for service. Two with something of value swapped for what they'd rather have. It was a way to keep things turning, to keep minds off that final contract to fulfill. Just so happened, East didn't mind that preoccupation. The problem was, he needed more to bargain with than a couple of chrysalis shards and a song.

The solution couldn't be more obvious when it was practically hanging over, beside, and beneath him. Nobody except for the blind and the dimwitted could live in Orion without knowing about it. The first could learn eventually by touch. The second would only know it when it hit them. In fact, a loose chunk of glittering rock once proved that last statement. That light had fallen from on high and flattened a bat with wings slow as its brain below. It'd been while examining the sticky wreckage that he'd realized the ceiling was quartz.

Common yet captivating, it was a start. All he needed to do was start gathering what he could.

In the fields of ruin, harvest was bountiful. Finding the first crop took a hop, a couple wingbeats, and the catch of talons on clear crystal. It sprouted like blades of grass from the inhospitable rock. However, the pieces were far sturdier than bending bits of greenery. Striking one off with a predator's death blow only left small scratches from scrabbling prey's death throes. Wounded pride aside, he'd be better off scavenging.

Clearly murder by ceiling wasn't uncommon judging by the singular hunks of quartz littering the place. Either that or somebody preferred meals that had a crunch to them. Regardless of how they got there, these were the pickings he had to settle for. East swept the ground, lifting and judging and tossing aside until finding one that shined just right and could be held easily in his grip. Each of those plucked to keep he set down in the beginnings of a glittering pile of loot.

So far three had met his discerning eye's standards. If any more passed muster, that was to be seen. He kept digging.

Even lies needed quality. Too large, too clouded, too shot through by cracks—they'd work for someone with eyes poorer than their treasure hoard, but he couldn't afford that chance. Better to make sure the offerings were flawless so takers swallowed without complaint. Bit by bit, they passed through talons. Every one rolled from him a reject.

Crystal cleared around East, leaving an entire circle of the plain grey rock beneath. As typical, there were far more instances of near perfection and nowhere close to perfection than the real deal. He'd just have to move on to another spot and try his luck again.

If he could say one thing with a hint of positivity, it was that the cave was getting a long overdue cleaning. The fresh round of inspections had morphed that grey circle into a blob of uncovered ground, and every patch of crystals shoved back promised farther expansion. Another Gembound might be disgusted at his actions, the stripping away of gleaming beauty from the surroundings. He delighted in tearing a hole in Orion's shroud to reveal the grave it artfully hid.

The yield here was worse, none but one meeting expectations. Shining the brightest of all he combed through in the section, the quartz blinded in how the light danced upon every flat surface. To the right individual, it could be the very image of temptation. The addition to the pile was quick; a dazzling mistruth would be an easy lure to use.

Another cluster of shiny objects, another salvaged quartz that wasn't as rough as the rest. By this point, he'd fallen into a routine: jump to a spot, examine, discard, save, and repeat. Outside of the occasional botched landing, there wasn't much to it. With talons busy without any thought behind them, though, his mind was unchained from the current task and drifted along paths only marginally related to it.

For example, goods could be exchanged for goods. Services operated the same. A stick for stone, crafting for gathering. Could the lines be crossed, blood spilt or places built for the sake of a fancy adornment?

If so, he'd have something else at his disposal, more work but less odds and ends to weigh him down. Would that be worth it? What did he have to offer besides dark feathers, a sharp beak, and piercing eyes? He could hunt, pick apart corpses, and fly steady when his wings cooperated. Even so, it didn't seem enough when any bird with a brain could do the same.

East dug into the ground, sorting his answers alongside the quartz.

By now, the discarded quartz was piled high enough to be hills. Icy in their cool translucence, they gently sloped and touched down on that grey valley where East stood. Surrounded by rejects, those saved were comparable to a handful of starlight. They sat not too far from him, his back at the present turned away as he sifted through the crystals. Each subpar one he flung away without significant pause, the sharp jerk of his beak almost mechanical in its repetition.

A sore neck was what eventually forced a break. Shoulders rolled and joints popped. His head tilted left, stretching tendons to their limit, then did the same to the right. Then, straightening, he glanced behind at the current collection. Unless wings could double as feet, there'd need to be more than one trip to store what had been gathered. That excluded the crop he was busy reaping.

He sighed, fatigue shuddering like a death rattle within his throat, and returned to work. Five, ten, fifteen more were tossed to the surroundings until a few acceptable specimens were separated from the main bulk. Talons hefting one up, East pivoted on his unburdened toes, poised to set it amongst the rest of the keepsakes.

Instead it thudded on the ground.

Once at the very top of the heap, a tiny piece of quartz rested by its lonesome where the shadows were thickest. It twinkled there, innocent to its shift in location. Nearby at the edge of darkness, movement flickered. Something skittered. A reddish shape flashed by faster than an eye's blink, and the quartz was gone, the glimpse of a whiplike tail burned into immediate memory.

"Hey!" The shout was closer to a hoarse whisper, a reflex due to the sudden hijacking of his wits. What could a Lesser want with a glorified hunk of rock?

East jolted into action, guided not by desire to recover the quartz but a possible antidote to his confusion. He took to the air, soaring to land at the teetering top of one of his self-made hills. The crystals were slick beneath his talons, and wings fanned out to counter his unsteady perching spot. Although the Lesser might have the advantage of a head start, its prize would surely hinder it enough for him to catch its trail.

Swinging his gaze over the ruins, he scanned for the sight of glitter escorted by a furry body. Nothing but the familiar broken landscape greeted him. Whatever it had been, it'd successfully stolen away, the surrounding rubble concealing its escape.

One loss didn't hurt, but too many and he'd have to repeat this ordeal at another location. On that consideration, he swooped down to return to what remained of his pile. With this incident, crystal hunting was over and storing the goods for later was his next step. If he moved fast, perhaps the risk of leaving a portion alone would not be too great.

With two wings and far too few feet, there were sacrifices to be made. Division being the answer to his dilemma, the bird crammed his cargo to full capacity, two quartz per grip. The remaining three would have to fend for themselves against the tiny thief menace. Beak pointed in a more optimistic direction than he felt, liftoff was achieved. He disappeared, Orion throwing its cold cloak over feathers.

According to plan, they were stowed away. Their location? That was a secret for him, the cave walls, and that shaken lizard he'd scared from home.

Keeping the urgency of the situation in mind, the return flight should have been done with all haste. The memo hadn't reached East; he whisked along on a nighttime cruise, the view below not much livelier from farther up. Dust and decay—no matter the height, it was all the same. No alluring light show could fix that.

A swoop and he descended, banking left, stone almost threatening to graze him. Then, swift as a current, he rose. The ceiling left a sly twinkle in his eye on the upward turn. Finally, beak lowering, talons fastened on a free-standing wall's crumbling ledge.

The stop was unnecessary but all the while important. The bare circle. The shining hills. His workspace lay a mere few flaps or so ahead.

There were the leftover quartz. And there were whiskers attached to a pointy nose. Red covering more than its dainty paws, the mouse cried culprit. It rummaged around like it owned the place, weighing each piece until settling upon the smallest one it could hold.

Time for a new approach: shadow the Lesser.

At the center of a seemingly successful heist, the thief reared up on its hind legs and, whiskers twitching, surveyed the surroundings with jerky twists of the neck. It clutched its ill-gotten prize close to the chest, the quartz's glimmer more temptation than actual worth.

From a short distance, East breathed easy. If his movements were swift and careful, the shadows would be enough to cover him. He leaned forward, talons gripped tighter upon his perch to compensate for the imbalance. Under pressure, already loose stone pulverized to dust; it slipped between toes, falling free in an almost rainlike scatter. Body tipped to the limit, he fell as well, wings whooshing open for the descent.

Landing heavy, rocks crunched and scraped their uneven surfaces. Feathers rustled far too much on impact.

The mouse's ears shifted, and its attention snapped to the sound. A nervous quiver overtook the Lesser before solidifying in tense limbs. Suspended in the space between sensing and reacting, another suspicious noise would send it scurrying for safety.

In the dark, stuck in a position not ideal, his eyes had the telltale brightness of a set of high beams. If that thief were caught in them, its anxiety would likely skyrocket and send it fleeing far into the ruinous landscape. So East tucked his beak deep within the plumage of his chest. Wings tucked close like a coat clenched against the cold, shoulder feathers pressed tight enough to poke out like frayed lapels. His breaths were restricted, a vain attempt from the living to imitate the dead.

Mouse and bird were engaged in a game of who could play statue longer. Suspense building fright, it was the first who broke character. Its nose, and consequently all its threadlike whiskers, shook. On edge, its gaze darted around with far greater haste than before. Despite not being greeted by attack, it held no further trust in the safety of its surroundings. Still clasping the quartz, fur on end, it began to retreat with rapid skittering steps. Advantaged by size, the rubble provided it small spaces to squeeze into as well as cover from above.

It'd keep a careful eye to keep track of movement amongst the grey expanse, but perhaps it'd be easier when the target was colored similar to a spot of dried blood. A split second after his quarry fled, he launched into pursuit.