It was so weak.
Such color, such density of leaf and vine - the vessel could barely comprehend the stark difference to its birthplace. The deceptive nature of the native flora and fauna blindsided it again and again, diminishing its strength until its could barely lift its nail.
So lost was it, the small vessel did not notice the sheer drop before it fell over the edge, mossy ground giving way to unforgiving stone. Little feet dragged listlessly against the ground as the vessel stumbled upon impact, feet wedging between cobbles and knees leaking void against the path. The nail dropped from its grasp to clink uselessly against the hard earth, and for a time the vessel laid there.
Why had it come this way? What had it hoped to gain? Its mind, meant to be empty, was floundering, the spark of cognition smothering as its strength bled away into the earth, staining vibrant cobbles dark.
Its vitality dwindling, the vessel grasped its nail weakly and rose unsteadily to its feet, void dripping to color the ground as it pulled itself along, the nail, once a weapon, reduced to a crutch.
A whisper of sound caught its attention. Dully, it turned and gazed upon the bug that alighted gently upon the hard earth behind it. A weapon, thin and sharp, was clutched in one hand, and a thin substance caught the pale light finely behind the figure. A cloak of the brightest red adorned the bug's figure, and a pale mask atop its head tugged at a memory within the vessel.
Sibling… sister. The small vessel collapsed backwards, loosening its grasp upon the nail, and fell to rest against the etched pillar behind it. The Gendered Child stooped and lifted the nail, appraising it.
The vessel lifted feeble arms and tiny hands, reaching to its sibling, begging without words, without voice.
Mercy, sister, mercy.
But it found none.