[ti]spawn[/ti]Nitimur in vetitum

Tuesday's words are not about herself and this is something her Cryogonal knows well. They are, instead, a cautionary tale: a tale of a princess that attempted to gain control through fear and delusion, and who instead met her bitter end. A princess Tuesday once stole from. A princess she indulged by her own will and who she was later made to serve against it. A princess she still dislikes as much as she respects the memory of her.

"The Queen of air and darkness
Begins to shrill and cry,
"O young man, O my slayer,
To-morrow you shall die."

The Articuno in this egg won't be like her. The Articuno in this egg will be different. It will be strong, it will be powerful, it instill fear upon the hearts and minds of her enemies, and most important of all, it will be loyal to her above anything and everything.

Such are the plans Tuesday ponders on as she walks among evergreens, musing on the future and scheming. She's always scheming. Always up to something.

Once the poem ends, she says nothing at all, allowing silence to linger as they walk. As silent as it gets in the Timberlands, at least, for the sounds of sloshing mud, branches rustling with the wind, and distant skittering seem to be part of the permanent ambiance of the route.

Truly, Tuesday doesn't mind it at all, her attention being mostly on the egg she holds. She trusts Ancile to keep an eye for any possible attacks that may come, but just in case, she also makes sure to keep the egg safe. It's frail and small and so very precious.

Just as Tuesday thinks this, a shadow shifts in the vicinity.

As they keep on walking, the fog seems to become denser and denser, which while not at all an unusual phenomenon in this Misty Timberland, does lead Tuesday to being extra careful with where she steps. She keeps the ice-cold egg in a protective grasp, and glancing down at the way its mist mingles with the fog of this forest of evergreens, an idea comes to mind...

"Hmm... You know how relevant elements or locations might help hatch legendary eggs, Ancile? The Timberland's mist is a good option for Articuno, don't you think?"

<'That might work, my liege.'> Ancile agrees, calm and solemn. He too watches the egg, but he ensure to keep a close eye on their surroundings as well.

"Yeah... I think we should put that to the test..."

Tuesday always has something to say; there's always something poetic to recite or deep verses that add to the sense of ceremony of moments like this one. She has something to say now too, but at first, when stepping into the clearing and watching the mist swirl all around them, she says nothing at all.

Ancile levitates overhead, ever the silent knight, and when Tuesday raises the egg, it's carefully and ever so gently that icy chains wrap around it, holding it up — suspended in the mist of the Timberlands.

She looks at it, waiting, but just as she takes a deep breath to speak, a nearby sound interrupts their ceremony...

This time, instead of a deep breath, it's a sigh, and Tuesday's attention turns to the egg she holds. An egg so cold. An egg surrounded by mist. An egg of royalty...

"I don't think this is right..." She whispers to herself, musing on the matter. But, how could it not be right? This is the Misty Timberland, Articuno is the legend worshiped at the Precipice Shrine, and in the its mist the illusions this cruel deity take shape.

Still, it doesn't feel right.

The egg doesn't move, not even once.

It's not a long way from here to the shrine, and Tuesday is all too familiar with the route. How could she not be? She has gone there so many times before. She has so much history at that supposed place of worship that is now a gate to the Dream Kingdom.

That Dream Kingdom that she knows she needs to take the egg to eventually.

Not now, though. Not yet. Not anytime soon.

For as long as she can avoid it, she will, because Tuesday is sick of kingdoms.

Slashed and smacked, the Ducklett avoids the chain's grasp, its fighting spirit still burning bright despite the obvious injuries it has sustained from the fight. It runs straight towards Tuesday, its gaze set on the egg she holds so dear, but the Alchemist is ready, and there's no way in hell that she'll allow this annoying fucking duck to hurt her egg.

"You just earned yourself a trip down the shrine, asshole." Tuesday hisses then, a muddy boot holding back the Ducklett that continues to quack and hook and attempt to bite her. Yes, she steps on it. Yes, it's a pretty damn effective strategy.