Jason
It was an ugly thing. It grew upon Gaia's branches like a wasp nest, gray and bloated. It hung there for many star rotations as it steadily increased in size while other fruit around it blossomed and bloomed, giving life to many beautiful gods and goddesses. What kind of god would this fruit bear? Many theorized it would bring about a troublesome god, that the hideousness of its shell would match the personality of whoever was inside. But that discussion was a long time ago. The stubborn egg wouldn't hatch, and the curiosity of the gods faded as they moved on to more exciting hatchings to satiate the boredom that comes with immortality. 

Until one day, in a daring breeze of lucky wind, the stem of the fruit snapped. 

The nest plummeted down and collided into the branch below it with a heavy thump. The papery walls of the nest cracked and crumbled as they fell away, revealing a tangled mess of soft long ears, strong legs, and cotton tails. The horde of panicked rabbits overflowed as they leaped over the walls of the egg and scattered throughout the World Tree. 

Ahrini was born in the position she had died in–laying on her back as if she were watching the clouds roll by. Her red eyes opened not to meet the clouds, but the glittering stars above. The new god's personality was yet to be seen, but her pleasant smile was antithetical to the unsightly fruit that kept its crumbling walls around her even now. Ahrini took her first deep breath in, slowly turning her head to the only figure who had been there to watch her birth after all this time. 

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" 

She brushed her hand to the side, fingers sliding through the blades of grass that covered the interior of what was left of the fruit. The newborn god was inviting the stranger to be beside her, to watch the stars with her.
Norma
Any had not been interested in the hatching of this particularly hideous fruit, finding little value in the birth of Gods and Goddesses. It was not because she did not value their lives, but because most followed a formula that seemed to be rarely deviated from. Most would wake up, dazed and confused, question where they were, and then self-discovered the nature of their domains and the power of their godhood. It was such then, that the Goddess would not need to intervene in any way nor did she originally intend to. However, when the fruit had landed almost directly on top of her in what would've been an unlucky hit, she had no choice but to pay attention.

She gazed upon the fruit for a brief moment, working to understand the complexity of the drab gray fruit and its warped nature. The misty figure of a Goddess had realized too woefully late that walking amongst the branches of the world tree would mean a situation like this was more likely to happen than not, and she would have to deal with the repercussions when they came to her. Appearing curious (although not easy to discern), the Goddess remained to watch as the egg broke and revealed its contents of Rabbits hurriedly attempting to escape their prison and leaving a lone figure in the middle, laying upon their back in a relaxed manner; an outlier of the formula.

Now Any was interested.

Her whites would meet the red irises of the newly-born God, although no visible expression would greet the smile that she beamed towards her. Nothing was there to return anything, really. Instead, she moved a step closer and looked up at the sky, accepting the God's invitation in her own way.

"You would have to be more specific, in terms of the subject. Many things could be called beautiful, in one's mind. I trust this is not the first time you've awoken in strange circumstances, Godkin?" 

Her voice was loud, in the sense that many voices overlapped her own. None of which were discernable, only adding volume to the most prominent female voice that may be Any's own. Her figure was reminiscent in shape of a woman not dissimilar to the newly-born, although the primary deviation would be that her figure was significantly less tangible, she was made of a dark mist that only appeared to be solid.
Jason
"I am speaking of the stars, of course. There are so many and they each shine so brightly." 

There was comfort in the familiarity of the stars as she found herself in a new strange place. She had seen similar stars in her past life, but she could not pinpoint if what the goddess was assuming about her was true. Even as she thought long and hard about it, the only conclusion in those fractured memories was that one of her last memories was gazing up at the moon and stars. Only here, there was no moon. The dark sky was an empty void, just like the god before her. 

"It is possible. I think I have gotten into trouble many times before this, and yet I cannot think of the particulars. But I..." 

The godkin stretched her pale hands out to the sky and stared at them as she rotated her wrists. They were unstained. 

"I believe I am dead now, and so I should not panic. Panicking will only make the circumstances worse." 

The godkin lifted her back from the green grass of the egg, turning her face up to the void. 

"You must be dead, too. Or perhaps it is you who have brought me here, and this is your realm. You match the sky, after all."
Norma
"I had suspected as much." 

She spoke as if she had not just questioned the newborn on the nature of her words, perhaps her version of a trial; a quiz to prod the nascent god's mind and pick her brain apart, although it was practically impossible to truly know with the enigmatic Goddess of the Void. She did seem to know the sensations that the Godkin was experiencing, the foggy mist of distant memories that felt intimately like your own, yet distant as if they were a separate, forgotten chapter in your life. She did not say anything about it, but perhaps the Godkin could sense the familiarity.

She extended her hand toward the sky and allowed a piece of herself to break off, a small bubble of black mist that floated upwards to the sky, only to drop down quickly and land in the soft grassy patch of the Godkin's cocoon. It deflated, although it did not disappear or sink into the egg, simply outlining the shape of every blade as if it were a coat across the surface, like water upon a material that did not allow it to penetrate and sink inside.

"How very circumspect. Yet, the veil of mortality seems to still hang over you, blurring your perception and altering the way you think. You are still you, although your circumstances have changed, nascent Godkin."

‎ 
Any removes her eyes from the sky, turning her gaze back towards the nascent Godkin. In a brief expression of comfort, the Goddess replicates the pattern of the stars in the sky upon the blotch of Void laid in the grass. 

"The Rabbit will spend much of its life running from predators, unaware of the greater outside world. But what will happen when the rabbit suddenly becomes a predator? Perhaps this set of circumstances is not far from your own. The fruit of the World Tree is at the apex of the chain of life. Gods, they call themselves, are the Apex Predators; for they can create and destroy at a whim. You and I are the fruit of the World Tree and thus have become the Apex Predators, where we were once Rabbits."

She motions toward the floor and the branches that extend along the scenery, eventually meeting at a massive center somewhere in the far distance.

"Perhaps we were once dead, it doesn't matter anymore. You are here, and we exist. What you choose to do is of your own volition. I, nonetheless, will find it most intriguing," She pauses and takes an audible inhale and exhale. "Your path is yours to shape as you see fit, regardless of supposed Fate's design. Together we may twist that path a little bit, if you would like."

"Additionally, your assumptions are fair, although unfortunately incorrect. I am simply an observer, and this domain is your birthplace, as is the case for many Gods. I was conceived differently, and may explain why I appear as I do."
Jason
The young god carefully observed the reflection of the stars in the liquid reflection as she considered their wisdom. If this was true – if she had truly become a *God,* Then she was both prey and predator. Her chin tilted to gaze up at the towering branches of the tree. Her birthplace. The fact that she was dead was not what made her head spin. It was the realization that she held power in the palm of her hand, even if she could not feel it flowing within her veins. Even if she knew not how to use it. 

"What does it mean to be a god?" The question spilled from her lips. She found herself taking more comfort in the puddle of void in the grass than the tree and the array of oddly shaped fruit above. There was less to comprehend. "What is there to create, and why should I destroy it?" 

The god may have been born with a calm demeanor different from others, but any creature would be confused upon the laws of this abstract land. She could not understand the invitation of traveling down a path they could twist together because she could not understand a path unbent. The favorite word of this newborn was "Why?" Perhaps this one will shake the foundation of the expectation of godhood. She could prove useful – or even dangerous – at the side of a more experienced deity who could twist her mind to their ideals.
Norma
"Seldom are the Gods so warily introspective."

The being stands closer to the Godkin, extending her hand out to reabsorb the puddle of void upon her grass, leaving the green untouched and unaltered. A gentle cold air lingered where her presence once lay, nipping the blades of grass with a subtle touch of frost. Despite the darkness disappearing, the stars gently glimmered where they once stood in the void.

"To be a God, one must be born from the Tree. It is a simple statement. If you mean to ask the purpose of a God, then I do not have a simple answer for you. The only thing I can say for certain is that you have been born, and it is your will imposed on the space you create that proves as much. Though it is the space that you are yet to create, it remains trapped within your mind."

She lifts a finger and the tiny stars warble and quiver, as if commanded to lose their rigid and glowing forms in favor of an unstable and curious one. They shift violently in place for a moment, before returning back to their shining selves. 

"When a rabbit needs shelter, it will create a home. When it needs food, it will destroy vegetation. A mother seeks to create offspring to continue her legacy. A farmer will destroy the locusts preying upon its fields. When a being with consciousness has the power to create and destroy, they will experiment and toy with life and death."

"Create mortals, exert control over the things you have made with your own hands. Plunder the domains of other gods, or police those you judge by your arbitrary standards. Perhaps you were born to give the life you can create a purpose. Perhaps you do not like the purpose the world has already been assigned. Is that not an acceptable reason to create and destroy?"
Jason
How was she supposed to create and destroy when she did not even know her own identity? She had yet to create a name for herself. If she was to do as gods do, then she wanted the paint strokes to be purposeful and marked in her own image. 

The godkin's face faded from deep introspection to confidence as she stood and looked out upon the sea of islands upon the horizon. Each island connected by roots and branches was its own world, distinct from its neighbor. She took a breath, taking her first shaky step out of the eggshell. The god nearly fell, but she thrust out her arms and balanced herself as both bare feet touched the cold bark of the tree. 

"I wonder if the other gods appreciate their power," She said to herself. "I wonder if they abandon the creatures they create, or twist them without any regard to the feelings and sentience they have given them. Those with power are bound to abuse it, just as predators kill because they have the ability to extinguish life. Not because they are hungry, but because even after they are full they are not satiated until there is nothing left on their plate." 

Though she had no identity of her own, her face was marred in anger. Truthfully, however, she did not know what the gods of this world were like. Perhaps they were different. But if what her elder said was true, that they create and destroy as they please, what different were they from the murderer who instills their wrath because they can? Is it because they have the right to do so, as gods? Or is it just boredom? 

"I do not think that I can create or destroy until I know who I am. Or, at least, some semblance of it. If I am to create, I wish for it to be meaningful. If I am to destroy, I wish for there to be a reason to. But perhaps, before anything, I must know as much as I can about this world and those that already inhabit it." She looked at Any, eyes wide. "Can you help me?"
Norma
Any had not made any motion to assist the Godkin in stepping out of its shell, possibly because of the nature of her form. She would watch intently, listening carefully while looking toward the remnants of its cocoon, looking around for those rabbits that had seemed to be born alongside her.

Any would not say anything when the Godling had started to question whether the Gods appreciated their powers or even considered their mortals, shifting in shape subtly as if she was uncomfortable or antsy. Perhaps her words had struck a chord, though nobody would be able to tell. Her already intense plain stare would focus on the Godkin and the Godkin alone, as she took steps to face her. She extended her and faced her palm towards them as if to motion to a moment of silence. 

"If I, personally, were to make an assumption, I would assume that your definition of being a God would be... To accept the mantle of a concept, and take responsibility for it. If you cannot remember your former life, then look toward the one you have now. The first step you can make towards easing into Godhood is to create."

Her gaze softens gently. The first real change to her shape in the time since they'd met.

"What name will you create for yourself, O God of Rabbits?"
Jason
Her new throat was out of breath from her monologue, and so she let the other god speak. They had not met for long, but she had already gained some kind of affection – or was it reverence – from the older god. They must have experience in this world, and were more than worth listening to. Upon hearing their wisdom, the young god nodded thoughtfully. That assumption seemed to align with her beliefs, and the advice calmed her spirit with a sense of much needed direction. 

"My name..." 

Her vision went white. The world blurred into focus, whirling around a scene of long blades of grass flowing in the breeze and white billowing cloth hanging along a line. The word was on the tip of her tongue. In fact, she could see another person saying it. A woman, though she could only see the movement of her lips. The vision slipped from her grasp before she could make out the voice in the distance. 

The young god pursed her lips and shut her eyes in frustration, slowly shaking her head. If she could not remember her old name, this new name will be the god's first creation. 

"My name will be Ahrini," She said at last. Large red eyes focused on the older god. "What is yours?"