The second generation

Salome, much like her mother. Nested and only had one egg. A brown egg that slowly grew a green sprout as time grew closer for it to hatch. The spirits began whispering tales of a nature born Labrynthian, and how it was one with nature and their own magic. Salome took care in the regards of walking the long hallway that lead to the nesting hall. Blindness not hindering her for a second. Her daily routine was checking the egg, and thus she was first to sense the small tree that had begun to sprout on the edge of the mossy nest. Under the watchful eyes of spirits it grew.

Sadly her beloved mate Evander hadn’t stayed long. As soon as the nest was laid he was gone. Learning of his mates binding vow to only lay a single nest scorned his hopes of having a mighty brood. It left Salome heartbroken, and it hurt Nasiba to watch her firstborn go through that pain. The little egg payed no care to anything of the outside world. The growing hatchling inside would prove to be all Salome needed.

On the final night before the egg was due. The tiny tree became an Aspen tree. The nesting hall barely containing it from the outside world. Spirits swirled through the branches of the tree. Their blue glow lighting it up, and their voices sending whispers through its leaves. A crack came from the egg. The other Labrynthians gathered around the nest to watch as a new generation was born, shockingly a day early for the time. A piece of shell fell off the small egg, and out stuck a paw with runes dancing up the leg. In an instant the rest of the egg cracked away to reveal the little pearlcatcher.

Salome smiled and brought her muzzle close to her young. The hatchling let out a chirp as her bright green eyes stared up at her mother. The spirits seeming stopped in wait. Still whispering their tales. Nasiba stood back with her mate. Watching carefully, confused as to what the spirits were saying about the hatchling. It seemed tonight, the night of tricksters, was a special occasion for the spirits to be prominent more than usual. Silence fell upon the hall for what felt like ages; save for the spirits whispering. Finally Salomes voice brought noise echoing to the silent hall, and thus giving the hatchling a name.

”Aspen.” The hatchling tumbled from the nest with excitement as her mother started walking. Proudly leading the child to where she could begin the journey all Labrynthians made. Soon Aspen would grow to be all the spirits whispered of her.