Hyacinth stirred awake in the two beds they'd pushed together, having commandeered the two to fit their substantially-sized frame. Their children laid on or against them, cuddled close: A pair each of Manipulators and Tricksters, and a single Reconcilant with a trio of Imps. They all stirred awake at the same time as them, as they always had. Waking was slow, as their children piled off; the Manipulators first, then the Tricksters, and lastly the Reconcilant, still carrying its groggy Imps on its back. Hyacinth crawled out of bed, looking around at the dreary interior they were in. It was... Cold. Unfriendly. Not a place they wanted their children to live in, even if it had been home for a long time now. The sterile tiles and smooth metal walls had long since worn out their welcome.
Hyacinth carefully led their children towards the stairwell, their mace brandished as the door softly hissed and slid open. They walked as lightly as they could up the stairs, their five hooves shuffling in an unwieldy but practiced rhythm. Their children stayed close behind them; Tricksters closest, then the Reconcilant, then the Manipulators. A protective configuration, like wild animals surrounding their fragile young or pregnant. The protectiveness came to Hyacinth as a raw instinct. Something primal, basal, crucial to their sense of ease.
Hyacinth's movements slowed as they found something they'd never seen before. The top. There were no more stairs upwards. Just a door out to the highest floor. They wondered, then, if the only way out was through. As they reached for the door, however, it opened without their input. On the other side stood one of the sentinels of this place: A body of fire wrapped in full plate mail, hewn from some dark purple metal. Hyacinth gasped, shielding their eyes and bracing themselves as a gout of flame washed over them; the flames hissing and burning at their fur. Their body churned uncomfortably, their depths stirring in response to the pain. As the flames cleared, a single pupa fell from the orifice in their leg, swelling and rupturing into a fresh Manipulator.
Hyacinth didn't give the thing another chance to act, stepping forward and slamming their mace into the side of the armored creature, denting its side appreciably and sending it careening to the side, staggered from the force of the blow. Hyacinth pressed onward with a newfound hurriedness, ensuring their children went ahead of them, including the new Manipulator. Hyacinth sheparded their children through the upper floor, attempting to make as much space between them and the sentinel as possible.
Then, however, Hyacinth hit a door. A big, heavy door, seemingly designed to seal away whatever lied on the other side. Hyacinth could hear the faint rush of air and rustling behind it. Given that the sentinel wasn't far behind them, they found the latch and twisted it, the door grunting and uneasily sliding open. Hyacinth had to shield their eyes at what they found, squinting as they gazed upon what laid behind the door.
The outside was coated in warm, golden plants. Long, slender blades of golden material that rustled gently in the wind. It was bright and warm, and entirely unlike the dismal metal place they had called their home for so long. As Hyacinth's eyes fully opened, they stepped forward, taking a deep breath of the air. It was full of strange, unusual scents; the smells of life. It didn't have the strange, sterile pang that the air within their home did.
Hyacinth stepped out somewhat uncoordinatedly, almost stumbling on the ground. It was flat, but not perfectly even; their hooves sank slightly into the loamy soil. Their children followed close behind, huddling close or even under Hyacinth directly. The warmth was unlike anything Hyacinth had felt before. It caressed their body gently and warmed their stretched, aching muscles. Their fur no longer stood on end like tense pricks, but instead relaxed. Their head felt clearer, their body more at ease.
"It's alright, my children..." They finally spoke, the warm and slightly humid air easy on their throat as they paced forward into the long undergrowth. "I believe this is... A new home for us," They expressed, though they weren't entirely sure themselves really. This was a new place, and fresh dangers potentially lurked. Though so far, nothing had jumped out at them.
Their early exploration was trepidatious, to say the least. Slow movements through the long foliage. Hyacinth winced a bit as the sharp edges of the plants cut into their skin, to the point of a particularly intense one loosing another spawn from them; a Trickster. Hyacinth realized that if they wanted to rest somewhere in comfort, the longest of the foliage needed to go. They did ponder ripping it free of the ground with their hand, and did try that for a bit, but it felt wasteful. This material was so full of life and energy... And it smelled quite tasty, really. So, after some pondering, they tilted their head low to eat the foliage, instead. It was dry and tough, but it had an undeniable appeal to the large equine. The way it crunched and mashed fibrously between their teeth was a sensation they didn't know food could give them.
Hyacinth began eating more of the long plants around them, and even their children joined in. The small Imps could not make much dent in the high undergrowth, but their Manipulators, Tricksters, and especially the Reconcilant could make a rather appreciable swathe through the tasty foliage. Hyacinth wasn't sure how much they ate, but by the time they were done, they'd beaten and eaten down a substantial area in the field; enough that they could lay down and rest their head in the soft, damp shoots that had lied beneath the taller, drier plants.
Hyacinth closed their eyes and stretched, their children laying against them comfortably. This place was new and unfamiliar, and yet Hyacinth felt more comfortable here. It was warm, soft, expansive, there was food everywhere, the gentle rustle of the plants in the wind was delightful. They felt more alive now than they had for a long time. Their belly was full, their muscles were... Well, they were always sore, but they were as relaxed as they could be; and their children seemed content, with one of the Manipulators curiously trying to weave some of the ripped up grass into rope.
Hyacinth didn't necessarily sleep, but had spent quite a bit of time just resting and enjoying the soft sounds of nature around them. The sounds of their children playing soothed them, via both mind and soul. As they stirred, however, they looked back at the dark metal doors not too far from them. They wanted away from that place. Their once-home now, in hindsight, felt exceedingly cold and hostile. Hardly homely at all, really. This new place was better: Warmer, more comfortable, and full of food. Hyacinth stood up slowly, their puppets looking up expectantly at them.
"Alright, my children," Hyacinth began gently, looking down at their puppets. "We're going to find home. I don't know where it is, or how long it will take to get there... But we'll find somewhere we can call home soon enough," They expressed, starting off into the long plants once more, away from the cold steel doors. A wave of apprehension washed over them as they pushed forward; the nerves, as well as the sensation of uprooting. It was a strange, displeasant feeling that tugged at them, gnawing at their body and mind like an irritated creature. It was enough of an upset that they felt another pupa loose from their body. They looked on as the pupa hatched into a fresh Manipulator; the first to be born beyond the cold, dark confines of their old home. "Come along, little one," Hyacinth said gently, offering the little thing a hand as it stretched. "We have a home to find," They said, voice gentle and hopeful.
Hyacinth and their puppets wandered for some time. The Imps flew above, fanning out to find any sort of desirable place. The Manipulators ripped and scored their way through the grass. The Tricksters blasted away the unpleasantly sharp foliage with magical bolts. And the Reconcilant spent much of its time grazing on the way, contributing in its own way to clearing the land. They found a new sort of place, however, where a river forked and melted away into thin streams; a wetland, playing host to different sorts of high folaige and crops, including a strange plant with strange fruits that crunched delightfully between their teeth and tasted quite pleasant.
Hyacinth looked around. This place was nice. Cooler than the fields, but the sun above still warmed the ground and that which occupied it. The land was damp and loamy; soft enough that Hyacinth felt comfortable with the prospect of lying on it. They walked gently down to one of the banks of one of the small streams, tilting their head down to take a drink of the cold, clear water. Their eyes widened a little; the water was sharply cold, in a way that shocked their system. A jolt ran through them, and a pair of pupae loosed from them; one from their leg, the other from one of the orifices on their back. Each pupa swelled and cracked open; one into a Trickster, the other into a Reconcilant. The impulse spread to their older Reconcilant; a smaller pupa fell out of the orifice on its belly, hatching into a fresh Imp.
Hyacinth chuckled gently. "Goodness, everything is so... Intense out here," They said mostly to themselves, taking a more cautious drink of the fresh water. They lifted their head after a few deep sips, sighing in content. "It's okay, my children. It's safe to drink; just a bit cold, that's all," They said gently, watching as the Reconcilants carefully paced up to the stream to drink.
The first day was... Simple, but pleasant, for Hyacinth and their children. They fed, they drank, they chittered amongst themselves, and they rested. The warmth and heat of the sun above eased Hyacinth's weary, sore muscles, and their children played along the banks. The Reconcilants lounged in the loamy dirt, gently tending to the smaller of their kin. The Manipulators excitedly worked all sorts of new materials, knapping stones and twigs and spinning lengths of cord from the long plants. And the Tricksters trotted around, chattering and occasionally startling Hyacinth or the others with small snaps and flashes of magic. Hyacinth was never too startled, though the new Reconcilant spawned from the sudden stimulus a couple times.
Hyacinth was content to lay on the river bank. They soaked in the warmth, the sounds, and the comfort. This already felt much homier; more comfortable and loving, like a gentle embrace at all times. Their nerves eased, and as the sun began to fall and the light and heat were gently quelled, their children came close and snuggled up to them, laying around or on top of them and each other. Hyacinth was happy, comforted by the knowledge that their children would have somewhere nice to live and flourish in.