His mind already set, Zephyrion wasted no time in calling upon his powers of change to reshape the Urtelem. While the Lord of Change admittedly lacked the creativity and talent of many of his peers when it came to creating a work of his own, he excelled at expanding, refining, simply changing what already existed be it for the better or worse. In this case, it would be for the better: while the Urtelem had many desirable traits and were a good framework, they also had their shortcomings.

First the Storm's King carved their shapes into something more imposing: where the Urtelem had been perhaps two yards high, they now stood that tall and then half again. Their girth had not increased proportionally to that, so they now bore an even more humanoid shape although they were still robust with brawny limbs and relatively stocky bodies.

With this greater size would come the need for a greater metabolism. The First Gale breathed, and where before his mighty breath had carved their stony bodies into something new, now the winds of change simply seeped into the twisted Urtelem like water into parched soil. He manipulated their innards and their very composition to be more like those of the hain and humans, and what had once been earthen was now flesh, albeit a tough and almost stone-like sort. These new beings had muscles and skin and could bleed, although to some extent they retained the Urtelem's resilience by having an incredibly tough hide of sorts.

With these more natural qualities came additional needs; the rocks and minerals that had been the Urtelem's soul source of nourishment would remain digestable, and indeed these creatures would take a liking to consuming bones and the occasional rock. Yet like all natural lifeforms, they would also require more mundane forms of food as sustenance. The Urtelem's incredible lifepsan was also lost, though given perfect conditions these beings could still enjoy a century or so of life.

Lastly, Zephyrion looked to the creatures' minds. Besides the obvious work necessary to allow his creations to function and not act as if they were Urtelem, he had seen the potential for true sapience, civilization, and intelligence that Teknall had left vacant, and it was too tempting for him to not build upon that-the grandest of all the foundations that Teknall had left upon his Urtelem. He meticulously exerted his utmost effort into instilling intelligence into these beings, a sort of independent thought and independence that was of its own nature rather than the reflection of himself that he had bestowed unto the elementals. Zephyrion accounted for everything that he could think of: he imprinted upon them the ability to quickly and easily develop and learn language, to form complex societies, to build and innovate, to fight and know victory, and perhaps the potential for the wisest among them to one day understand the mysteries of the various sorts of magic left in the world.

With triumph, he beheld his finished product. There were many of these beings, enough to be the progenitors of what might one day become a species so widespread as even those hain. One of a particularly large and brutish temperament grunted and marched closer to Astarte, the other ones docile enough to pay the two gods little heed as they explored their surroundings. This large and aggressive one had once been that very first Urtelem that Zephyrion had chanced across when he had decided to create these grand creatures, and so this one was both the eldest of his race and the one that had been exposed longest to the presence of the two gods.

It didn't show. With what was a less than majestic performance, he trotted up to Astarte and looked down upon her, sniffing the air, staring intently, and looking as if he was contemplating whether she might be edible. For whatever reason he decided not and trotted away, but not before belching loudly.

Astarte tilted her head curiously as the being trotted away. Having it attempt to eat her could've been really interesting. A futile endeavor for the mortal, surely, but interesting nonetheless.

"Are you going to try to eat me or what?" Astarte called out after the being, waving her hand at it.

It ignored her.

"Your new creations are rather crude, Zephyrion-" Astarte turned toward her fellow God and shrugged after raising an eyebrow at him, "They're like big Deepwoods animals."

"Crude?" he gushed back with an odd combination of joking indifference and contempt seeping into his tone. "They are sublime! Masterpieces! Look at me, Astarte: I am no creator god. And yet I have still made these beings that are mighty and stout. In defiance of the wretched Vulamera, I also designed for them a grand intelligence using only my own wit and powers. What better way to ridicule the Foolish One and denounce her uselessness to nature itself than to take it upon myself to fulfill the void in responsibility that she leaves in her absence, and fulfill this role even better than she might?"

Zephyrion's tirade was interrupted by that first being stooping down to find a rock and chew on it. Beneath the thing was a snake that lashed out in fear and bit the giant in the toe. The thing only stared stupidly down at it for several seconds, seemingly not even in pain, before stooping down to snatch up the snake and devour it as well.

Astarte frowned, the thing didn't even feel pain, could it be any more boring? "Yes, uh... Great creations, Zephy. I see now that they are absolutely awesome. I wonder how the God of all Breezes made living beings this complex!" The sarcasm in her voice was accompanied by a giggle as she finished talking. She put her arms behind her back and grinned.

"Why must they be complex? They only have to be stronger than the others. Yes, I think that these will turn out to be much than the mob that Vestec has been assembling!" he declared without so much as a dent in his pride. Astarte obviously didn't understand such lofty notions of superiority; maybe one day he would find the time to show her.

"But now we must put them through the first trial: let us see if they can endure the power of the rock!"

Without another word Zephyrion grew until he was a twister so strong that not even the sheer size of his newest creations could keep them rooted to the ground. With them and Astarte in tow, he returned to the Deepwoods.

The moment Astarte saw Zephyrion was getting close to the Deepwoods, she forced him to stop his approach. It would not do any good to have such a huge twister near the woods--It might even fling the Rock somewhere far away. So instead of destroying a large part of the wood, Astarte let herself and the rest of Zephyrion's new creations shoot into the woods.

They crashed through the treetops, through branches, through animals. Some of the new beings had their bones broken, others splattered against the huge tree trunks.

When they reached the bottom, Astarte made sure to slow their fall. Screams turned into nervous grunting as the beings found themselves landing softly on the cold, dark ground.

Astarte got up silently, patted herself free of any leaf and branch stuck in her hair and motioned in the direction of the Rock. It'd only be a hundred meters or so from their location, "Go to the Rock, where I'm pointing!"

They ignored her.

"Come on, go!" She shouted.

They ignored her again, only now standing up and looking around them. Some started to bite the trees and others the grass.

"Stupid animals..." Astarte muttered and bit her lip. She looked down at her feet and felt her heart pump faster and her cheeks heat up. The creations were supposed to be sentient yet they couldn't even understand her speech.

Zephyrion's defensive attitude towards his newest creations demanded that he respond to Astarte. "Why would you expect them to talk already? They will create their own language, but it will take time! It will not do for me to give them language of another species created by another god; my grand creations shall stand on their own legs! They will surpass the others and thrive, and in doing so prove not only their superiority but mine as well!"