Turnabout had lived in the swamp his whole life. He'd become so familiar with the mangroves, the forests, the hidden caverns and forgotten trails, but he never truly felt like he belonged. Over time, there would be new kin, new kinds of kin, the likes he'd never seen before. Some bore a resemblance (acha in spite of their slender form and kiokote), others were alien to him (zikwa in their complete lack of horns and scales), but it was with the totoma that he found an affinity for. Learning of them, Turnabout began to wonder to himself if the MotherFather allowed him to learn of them for a reason despite never having left the Swamp.He'd ignored this curiosity for many seasons but today, something called to him. Something more intense than wanderlust. And of all places, it was to the harsh, cold mountains. Despite the difficulty of the journey, he pushed on even if he had neither the fur nor the extra hardiness such rough weather demanded. He couldn't not go.
The snow and wind blinded him, but he wasn't going to stop. He'd gotten this far, he could make it even farther. Eventually, he found a dark, purple crystal. The deep ominous colors and roiling sensation of chaos it emanated should have made him uneasy, he should have turned away with his heart racing and his tail tucked between his legs.
But he was Turnabout. His body had served him well all these seasons. Perhaps like the butterfly he'd dreamed of, it was time to spread his wings and reveal the truth of himself within. The dark crystal did not give him a clear answer, but it seemed to offer him an opportunity to do what he wanted, to be what he was by his own effort and merit.
He sat, transfixed, staring at the multitude of reflections on the crystal's fractal surface. There were versions of him with completely different markings, but that did not speak to him. He liked his colors, perhaps some of it could be deeper or more vibrant but that was not entirely important. What did pull at him with every fiber of his being, was the sight of himself larger, sturdier, and hardier. A version of himself having grown in the mountains as opposed to the swamp.
A version of himself not as a kimeti but as a totoma. He didn't hesitate to embrace this version of himself.