The ugly, chittering thing at your feet continues to squirm, rolling itself out of its eggy prison, gradually chipping its way onto the earth, into real life. You’re still not sure how you feel about it, even as someone else (someone new) approaches before you’re even sure how to perceive the little cotton balls at the corner of your mind. You have to admit, though. It’s intriguing watching this tiny chicklet struggle for life without once lifting a finger to help it. My, my, so cold you are sometimes. I’ll admit; I do understand it’s not out of any malice against the poor bird for you to care so little. It’s simply who you are, and also because you’re not quite sure what to do at this point. It hasn’t answered your question yet; you do not know if it’s cold.

My apologies, I mentioned someone had arrive and we’ve barely paid attention to him! Our mistake. Your golden gaze rises from the bird to see a deplorably marked little boy some moons older than you, slender in his legs and chest than you’d think he would be at such an age, for you’re quite sure dear Oizys is thicker and broader in both those places already. You don’t know what this means—that either Ozzy is fat or this child is small f or what he is. Does that make him weak? Does that make him hungry?. You eye the white marking blazing across his face like a skull, the uneven, unflattering red splashing across his chest. The bones that line his leg. Those red eyes gleaming at you as he spits words into your lap. Where did you get that?

You blink at him, large, golden blinks. You’re not quite sure how to answer him. “Right here,” you say rather bluntly, potentially missing some hostility on his breath. You decide anyway that the time is ripe for a taunt, and you scuff your hoof delicately upon the ground while casting your gaze demurely to the side. “I guess I got here first,” you sigh, wondering if you are rubbing salt on a wound. You know how it feels to be left out of the companion game, and yet you still cannot find mercy within your bones.

You smell her before you see her, that big-boned sister you had just been thinking about, and Ozzy’s pale, piercing eyes cut through the gloom of the forest as she approaches. Enyo’s eye is drawn to Ker upon her sister’s back—such a large creature now, so beautifully plumed out, so much larger even as a chickling than this gray blob right here. Sister touches you and lashes out almost in the same instant, against the slender boy. The click in your mind is instantaneous. “You know each other?” It’s a question bordering on a pout, feeling almost left out again, petty and angry that someone new and strange would know your sister without your consent. You wrestle with it quietly, and the cotton balls prod your mind.

You’re not sure how to take your sister’s congratulations; you smile at her quietly, a gentle sunbeam with your muzzle, and yet you feel more confused than ever. Cotton balls prod, they push. You lower your face near the little chick, and it nibbles the soft skin there. This is a bonding moment, y’know. Even if you’re not aware.


"talk talk talk"