The initial stirring against my breast took me by surprise, and for a moment I stood confused, wondering what under the moon could be going on. Then like a ton of bricks the gravity of the situation hit me, followed swiftly by a flurry of excitement and anxiety. Gingerly I lowered the basket I wore to the earth, watching entranced as the movement of the egg flung it from its little nest. Hair-width cracks settled upon the fragile shell; my ears stood forward and alert as a claw emerged, then another, and finally a beak punctured through and the shell collapsed and there lay the creature that would hold my heart forever.

She rose into the air, pale white with accents of dark, and she was beautiful.

Then she shrieked, a brilliant eruption of noise, staggeringly loud for one so small.

Thank goodness I had hunted. Thank goodness for Merakerr. "Come, little Kali," I call to her, laughing. "Let's find you some food, shall we?" Not letting my eyes leave her, I stepped away. The tree where I had stored her food lay mere paces from me; in no time, I had reached it, grabbed the doe from the pile, and laid it down where Kali might easily catch its smell, hoping that this was right.

There is an unexpected welling of emotion within my chest, a sudden surge of affection I have not felt since I watched Mirage rise to her feet for the first time. It is something protective and proud, excited and pure, and it only intensifies as I watch Kali stumble towards her first meal. Somewhere deep beside my heart, a hole I did not know I had is being filled with the soul of a creature I never thought I would meet. It is odd, I muse, that I can feel such contentment in such a repulsive scene. Kali tears into the meat eagerly, sharp beak shredding the tender flesh into bite sized morsels that she gobbles down with greedy enthusiasm, splatters of blood staining her white feathers. The sight is gruesome; the stench, even more so. She is oblivious to the rest of the world, happily entrenched in the entrails of her feast, and so she does not see Merakerr's approach.

I smile at the sound of my unusual friend's voice, but I cannot tear my gaze from Kali, who I can somehow feel has gorged herself to the point of near explosion. Somehow her presence is not strange or alarming. She has been with me through the steps of this particular journey - it would be odd if she hadn't appeared, I muse, humming at Kali and watching her spin about in excited confusion. "Thank you," I reply fondly, alto voice traveling across the expanse between us, genuinely pleased that Merakerr approves of my choice in name. Kali seems to sense the praise, too, for she pauses in her feeding to turn and face us, surreptitiously preening before returning to her meal. The larger gryphon's steps are quiet in the evening air, and I wonder if my little fluffball will someday grow to be as graceful as the leopard who had helped me so in the past. At the moment, it is not looking good for Kali. "I'm sure there will be extras, if you're hungry," I offer, although I have a sense that Kali may not feel the same way.

The flash of gold draws my gaze skyward, a flickering glimmer of delight crossing my face before heavy steps pull my attention away from the distant Akaith. It is not without a certain degree of surprise that I register the familiar stroke of flame on the horizon. That Asur has come both pleases and confounds me; that he will no doubt be greatly confused by the medley of predators and blood I have surrounded myself with does not cross my mind. This new infusion of Kali is an intense surge of feeling; every emotion is intensified by her own curiosity, every breath bears the beat of two, and so as Asur approaches I watch him with a new found sense of wonder and pleasure, suddenly painfully aware of how greatly I enjoy his company. Poor boy, I can only laugh at his confusion, the distress that marks his lines as he eyes the predators through one whole eye. I wonder what he will think at the arrival of Akaith and Mirage.

As amusing as it would be to let Asur's bewilderment persist, I am in a giving mood; I take pity on the stallion, stepping towards him and breathing out comfortingly, the echo of laughter still bright in my throat. "You chose an odd time to arrive, Asur," I murmur, shooting him a vibrant grin before turning my eyes back on Kali, who is finally done eating and now sits upon her haunches, bloated and lazy. Whatever else I may have said dies on my tongue as I watch her unfurl her wings. It was strange and wonderful, the feelings of curiosity that were not mine, her own amazement at the world around her. She eyes the extra appendages curiously; they are too small to carry her, and she does not know what to make of them. Frustrated, she tries to catch one, tiny figure darting in tight circles. She does not understand why she cannot catch the things.

The blur of light wanders past, and I catch Mirage out of the corner of my eye. I know better than to pursue her, for my little illusion will reveal herself when she is ready. Reflections bounce off golden scales above; Kali is distracted from her pursuit, and looks up abruptly, screeching excitedly at the dragon. The cacophony of noise covers Mirage's decloaking; I wince against the cries even as Mirage speaks, casting a grimace at my little sister. Was Akaith ever this loud, I wonder? It seems doubtful. "Thank you, Mirage" I shoot back, even as she glances at Asur, her expression holding both curiosity and, I suspect, some glitter of amusement. This one doesn't fawn, I am tempted to drawl, but I bite my tongue and instead hope she can read it in my expression as I roll my eyes discreetly, a glimmer of a grin tugging at my lips. But I let the coy expression fall away to true pleasure as she affirms the small gryphon's decision, delighted and proud and glad that my friends are here to share this with me.

I have long since lost the ability to maintain my masks.

But Kali has grown bored with conversation; she knows that this gathering is about her, and chirps to recapture the attention of the masses. On shaky legs she fumbles towards me, pauses, and changes her course, suddenly interested in Merakerr. While she does not yet appreciate the fact that Mera is the only one who resembles her, she is nonetheless fascinated by the larger gryphon, letting out a series of soft peeping sounds that speak of her avian heritage. She is tiny compared to Mera, and yet she is unafraid in the face of the giant, stopping before the grey hybrid and casting one last glance at me before reaching out to bat at my friend's feathers, long ears perked forward curiously.

An angry squawk of protest is all Kali manages before being caught up in Merakerr's deft claws, although she continues to struggle and squirm in discontent, screeching at the tongue that looms above her, the hooked beak eager do delve into disheveled feathers, the impending and horrible preening that draws her away from her play. Instinctively she protests, despite how pleasant the cleaning feels, her tiny face scrunched into a petulant expression of awww, c'mon. Terrible guardian that I am, I can only laugh at her plight, teasing her gently. "You shouldn't have gotten so close if you didn't want to face the consequences," I sing, giggling at the indignant protest that she chirps in response.

It would seem that the audience of Kali's hatching was not yet fully arrived, for even as she is taken under Merakerr's unappreciated beak, the hoofbeats of new arrivals stir the air, causing me to glance away from the group and towards the edge of the clearing where Madyrn now emerges. I grin at my brother as he jaunts past Asur, his dark form graceful beside my friend's uncertainty, flicking an ear back to acknowledge the arrival of Maskan on my left.

[ in process @_@ ]
"Come, little Kali,"