It was so much. So much knowledge to pick through, so much information to memorize, so many words to try and make sense of. Grishia tried to remember all of it, but she already knew she wouldn't, so she was concentrating hard, struggling to at least remember the important points.
But how did she know what was important? Biologically, she was little more than a baby. Her body wanted to eat, sleep and play. To learn at more of a wild beast's pace. But her mind...
Her mind, with its complete lack of worldly experience, was struggling to figure out which bits, out of everything she'd heard, were important. And she really didn't know. Frowning, fighting to remain focused, she settled on another question: a word, a place (she thought) she'd heard her mother mention.
Giggle started a little. She'd... herself, seen so much, that it was so hard to even conceptualized not knowing. But that had been her, hadn't it? Just a few cycles ago? (Or was it years, now? Was this even the right-...)
Okay, this--most of this, or maybe even all of this--was beyond her. She listened as she rode, frowning, and then considered it all again when Giggle had stopped talking.
Stars, moons, caves... She sort of got 'caves,' but the rest of it? She had no idea. But there was one thing Grishia understood. Her mother had just promised to take her once her legs were stronger. And to get stronger legs, Grishia knew at once, she had to exercise them.
So she turned, determined and silent, and clung to both her staff and her mom's fur for a moment before swinging her right leg back across Giggle's back, and dropping awkwardly to the floor. Then she clutched the staff, and began to walk. The bone golem came up alongside her, and she--eyes fixed resolutely on the horizon (well, the bones up ahead that marked the descent into the den)--marched.
She slid her gaze upward when she felt Giggle looking at her, and shrugged, as if to say, 'what?'
Giggle glanced down, offering a hyena's grin.
She padded along, picking her path carefully, always attentive for potential danger--and to Omen's eyes on her other children. But they hadn't gone far to begin with; and the den was just ahead.
Soon enough Giggle was guiding Grishia toward the stagnant pool.
Grishia listened, silent still, and nodded once. Her fingers tightened around the staff's wood, a thumb running absently over a smooth opalized streak.
She was thinking. About a lot, still. About the surface, and Halfteeth. About bones, and liminal places. About her own bone creature. About death.
About sleep.
Sleep was maybe a liminal space. One of those spots between life and death. Or... no. Maybe? Or maybe the space between sleep and waking was a thing. Like when she'd first woken, and had a sense of something... more.
Then a bone (a loose one, accidentally kicked) rolled past, and her ears perked up, a cub's instinct to chase nearly spurring her ahead. She stopped herself, but all those thoughts easily fell away.
Within minutes they were returning to the den, Giggle urging her to drink and to rest. So she did: muzzle lapped at (kind of icky) water, and then Grishia picked a spot in mud and reeds just a little ways away. She wrapped her arms around a blank-stare monster made of bones, and dragged it back as she lay down, clinging to it as though it were a teddy bear. Her staff she kept behind her, tucked in the crook of one elbow so no one could take it while she slept.
She barely heard the rest of what Giggle was saying, and she was asleep before her mother padded back away to hunt. The day had been exhausting, and undoubtedly there would be more to come--but she was alive, now. Dreams rose up to claim her--things of bones and moons--but she was safe here, and they didn't wake her.
exit