What an odd and curious place, each day was stranger and stranger. 

Not only was the world he was spilled into much bigger than before but it had an off assortment of weird horses living in it too. Nevermind that he was probably considered one of those weird horses. First of all his Father was some sort of fire man, or magma or something Mother had called it. Whatever it was it was hot, really hot and Mortal did well to remember to give him a wide berth when his skin was charred and ashen. Even Mother was different. She was green sometimes, other times she was black or red or blue, whatever mood suited her really, her skin was ever changing colors and he found it lovely. Hellbane was kind of like Mother in that way, no his skin didn't change but somehow some of the green had leaked from Mom and painted him around the mouth and legs and each one of his points. 

Freaks. They were a bunch of freaks but it was sort of nice that way.

Although Mother and Father had no wings to speak of here he was with a pair of his own, transparent and bat like in appearance. He too had fallen prey to the bleeding of ink and had shocks of bright hair coming out his ends. The only normal one seemed to be that guy Arthas that was there when they were born, Mortal wondered why that was. Was it the other way around? Was his family normal and Arthas the weird guy? He'd have to ask someone to know for sure.

Other than being home to an eclectic array of horses the Chamber was pretty normal, perhaps because he knew no different. It was bigger than the womb he shared with his older brother. There was plenty of space to run and kick and no one shoving you in return to get back into a comfortable position. It smelled nice too, like the trees that seemed to take over the whole forest, every one of them was a pine tree and left little hard cones on the ground.

Those tasted bad, they were not for eating.

Of course Mortal would soon learn that there were very many things that were not good for eating, not just prickly pine cones. Some plants were also terrible to ingest, leaving one sick to the stomach or fevered or breaking your skin out into itchy rashes. For now nibbles and sniffs are harmless, but it is likely that one day he will encounter plant life that is more foreboding. This is not that day, instead he shoves the hard, brown cone with his nose and watches as it rolls awkwardly away.

It wasn’t often than Mortal wandered from his Dam but sometimes exploring was best, long as he found his way back. Sometimes he tried to coax Hellbane to come with him but his older brother had not uttered one word to him since birth, and so in the end he always awkwardly scooted away on his own. Brother would talk when he was ready but that did not mean that Mortal should stay tethered to Ma, or maybe it did. Perhaps he was a terrible little brother for playing by himself, the silence breaks when a shuffling footstep reaches his ebony ears. shuffle, shuffle, slink

Young and naïve to the world and unafraid of the dark and the freaks that may or may not go bump in the night, Mortal watches the approaching male with curiosity. A young black body shifts against the weeds and grasses, wings pressing up and down against his skin at the slinking male, his green eyes wide. Too few are the Chamberlings that he has met and he is not entirely sure that his family really counts as far as having acquaintances or friends goes. He wonders who the stranger is long before he reaches him, tiny nose rising to sniff the air too much like a dog.

When he speaks he does not contemplate an answer for long, nor does he think anything odd about the question. “Yes I am new, I am Mortal.” If his name meant something it did not click in his young mind, it was simply a moniker, a calling that Father had stuck him with.

“Reap?” The boy repeats the name as if it is a question, tossing the short word in his mouth with ease as he tries his best to remember it. “Reap, why doesn’t that matter?” Maybe new was bad, or unimportant, maybe Reap knew things Mortal did not.