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It was wondrous, really, that they had been able to get so far still beneath the ground. One would have thought the caves beneath the Swamp would have filled in or something after so many years. Had this been any other time, she would have loved to chart them and explore, see what fascinations the rocks beneath the Motherfather held -- but of course, all such wonders paled in comparison to the prospect of the world above.

It was there that they were going, had chosen to go. Following Buried Alive, she'd even managed to make it to the front of the group, brushing past shoulders -- Thief, Take Root (and Take Flight), Pulse, Ghost, Soundless Voice -- the names she'd committed to memory long before. Ghost had beaten them, in her silent way, and her tail fidgeted in anticipation.

Her turn came moments later. Steps both cautious and sure drew her forward, shoulder brushing the rear flank of her bolder friend, and suddenly the world was flooded with white, a light more blinding than she'd dared to dream, for she had only ever seen the night. She froze, from both fear and awe, to let her eyes adjust, but her senses wasted no time.

The air here was so different, warmer than the cold of the mountains, wetter too. The smells. Vibrant. Fresh, and wet again. Scents of plants and kin washed over her, familiar in that vague way that a plant smelled like a plant and a creature a creature, but foreign in every other sense. Beneath her hooves, the ground sank slightly beneath her weight.

And then she saw them. As the light became not so blindingly white, and the shifting shadows of the Others emerged in ghostly shapes more sensed than seen, she found herself in one of those rare moments where even she was lost for words. Eyes, pairs upon pairs of glowing eyes, floating in the grey surreality of daylight. Fireflies.

"You owe me one. I don't care if it's the same one, but you owe me one." It's low and rough -- because Nettle can see there is excitement happening around them, can tell that soon the other Stag's attention will be drawn away, and he wants the last word before it is.

"This sort of behavior is unacceptable of someone your age." A hiss. Something someone should tell Nettle, every now and then...

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And he is, of course, right. Ghost has made her appearance, and Pulse; Take Root coming above ground. Willow has them on three sides, and that makes her turn in place, tugging flowers to pieces and scattering them as she does, cursing low under her breath. In moments, that majestic posture is destroyed, Ghost taking a gentle step back away from her so that she will not be trampled in the process. Her head turns, to take on the familiar pink glow of one of her siblings, but beyond there are more shapes. What does he do about that?

"...no interrupting. Ah. This is why we're here..." But Willow sounds uncertain about this.

She followed after Digger, Thief, Ghost and the others. The glows are about the only way she could follow. As they walked out, her steps faltered and she fell against a strange smelling being. "Sorry." Using her nose to get her feet back under her, Soundless shoved against the stag's leg. The shifting of hooves all over the place had her ears and head swiveling in each direction. "So much...so many around."



The teal doe is shocked. These are the Zikwa. Her father would need to be told this of how they came out. "Greetings." Her head dipped to the chosen of the MotherFather, the stags and mares that were lead to this place.

The buck could not help but notice how this... zikwa.... touched a lot. Maybe she could not see.... his thoughts were confirmed when she touched the middle of his neck, about where his throat was. Anywhere else, he thought, and she would have only felt hair.

Hero stood very still, as if she were a skittish foxbun that he didn't want to spook. A giggle was loosed, despite his efforts - but her soft skin tickled there! "It is a pleasure to meet you, Take Root. I am Hero, and I only followed one of the Legendary to this spot, I have no idea why we have all gathered - although Ghost Thistle's mound is very important in its own right."

He looked as more emerged. The buck shook his head in awe, his protective talisman shifting ever so slightly. "I cannot imagine... all this time... you were -literally - right under own noses! Did you decide to wait until the kiokote, acha, and totoma, arrived before making your appearance?" his voice teased ever so slightly. When he thought about it, it made sense. These zikwa appeared so much weaker... perhaps they would need some help to get used to the swamp.

The buck eyed Adventure - it just gave him its typically mischievous toothy grin. Yes, there were lots of dangers here.

Pulse, ears fanning out, suddenly starts: the others! The others have finally arrived! The zikwa bobs its head in a nod to Wood Spider, and then speaks -- Spider can't help but wonder at Pulse's odd breathless voice (she had met another kimeti with a voice like that, but he had been kicked in the throat), "Thank you for welcoming us -- we will meet again, I must find my friends."

Pulse is not normally this awkward, but rising to the surface of the swamp to find a party going on is awkward indeed. The zikwa makes a blurry, haphazard way through the press of kin, trying to find where to put feet on ground that shifts and moves under your weight. Eventually, following the sound of familiar voices, Pulse puts a velvet nose against Ghost's flank and then smiles at her: "I thought I heard you. And the others." A pause. "I smell flowers."

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Longstride laughs -- with his throaty voice others might be swayed into forgiving him, but perhaps not so Nettle. It makes it more amusing, that's for sure. "Someone my age? I'm not half as experienced as you, Nettle." Longstride grins. "But if I find some gryphon eggs, you'll be the first to know."

Creeping Moss arrived slightly later then the other Zikwa. She'd creeped along behind the first group. She watched for a few moments. There were so many new others out there. It was hard to see most of them. They didn't glow like they did but oh it was a sight.

"There are so many others here, aren't there."

Soundless turned to her sibling as loudly announced herself. With a small smile, it wasn't as loud as below ground, enclosed with the rest. There were some light glows, now that she looked a bit closer. "Thank you...cousin. This is your home?" She tired to keep near the vines, moving along his side before stepping out more. "Digger, why must you yell so much?"

Hero's grin just kept coming back. These zikwa were quite entertaining! In the back of his mind, he wondered how many really were still down there.... and how vast it must be.... but he had no intentions of taking a look for himself. The buck shuttered a bit at the thought. "Lost, hugh?" the buck smiled towards the one Take Root meant - another female, much more brightly colored, but still that now tell-tale glow.

"I guess we are the lost ones. I am Hero, and..." he looked around, noticing how the zikwa were getting along with the kimeti, "...I guess the Swamp welcomes you back, as do we."