Inside a pitch dark cavern, the only sounds that could be heard was the drip, drip, drip of some liquid falling down into a small pool. This was the way it had always been, always dark and cold with only the sound of the drops filling up the cave. The dripping had always gone on a steady pattern, with nothing else stirring in the cave.

The air began to vibrate, and the drips, for the first time, veered off the pattern it had always followed. A rip in the air appeared in the middle of the cave, bringing with it furious winds that howled with a sound that would make one tremble and an egg, an egg darker than black, darker than the inside of the cavern. It landed with a splash while the wind flung the drops around. This happened in the span of only a few moments.

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The rip shrunk and disappeared, as if it had never been there, and the winds started to slow down, eventually turning into a slight breeze. As the wind settled down in the cavern, the drips returned. The only thing left to show that the rip was ever there, was the egg in the middle of the pool of liquid.

Inside a pitch dark cavern, the only sounds that could be heard was the plink, plink, plink sound of some liquid falling onto some object. It was not always this way, in this dark and chilly cavern, but it would continue to be this way, continue until something else happened. The sounds of the drops continued on in the cavern, and nothing else stirred at all.