Each hunter narrates a dream they once had of primordial Earth: back in time across the ancient seas, back in time when the spirits walked, when the Sun was new, and the Old Gods held court.
Aeons past, old gods cavort - where in vast halls of burgeoning time they dance in sweeping arcs. They burn with creation, drawing others to them as they turn. Their bodies are adorned with jewels that wax and wane, tails of comets worn about their throats, their lesser courtiers ever-circling to match their dance.
One of these lesser beings is coveted for the blue glass of its sea - a beautiful mistake of its creation. It turns about one of the youngest of these dancers, adorned with a diadem forged of its own body. Its lands are birthed from magma and the crash of tectonic plates, and it is ages still before it feels the very beginnings of life. Finally the most ancient of its spirits come awake to see their nearest god on the throne of its sunrise.
There is love and awe but from the darkest of those first beings cast away by the light, there is hatred. It is the ferocity of that hate that wakes Jonah, the beings in his periphery roiling with an ancient, seething rage.