ORIGIN - hello, my old heart

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"Whatever comes of this — of you — I will not let it happen again."

A flutter of wings, some soft murmurs, and then nothing. Nothing.

Nothing but warmth, as they became intimately familiar with their confines. At first they held a little levity, allowing for movement and shifting up and down, side to side. Looking for further comfort within quiet, muffled stasis. Sometimes there was a voice, quiet and deep, rumbling through their shell. His shell, as he quietly thought and contemplated concepts that seemed to spawn from thin air as his body developed.

Soon, he could see light, stifled by his shell. He yearned to stretch toward the light, to claw outwardly toward the vibrations that soothed and shook his chrysalis. He shifted again, not for comfort but for exploration. Each movement exhausted him, so they were futilely met with the reward of blissful darkness. Sleep. Yet, as he awakened once more, he moved more and more, so that the dizzying sensation in his head would go away as gravity began to magically take hold upon him. And, one day, there was a sudden, natural desire to breathe and his lungs swelled with whatever had previously kept him safe. He was drowning within his own membranes, clawing frantically at his shell, pecking desperately.

Then, there was cold. A rush of air, stale and musky and full of bones. Wet and splayed across the floor, the neonate rested. Waiting. But for what? He simply just tucked his pathetic wings closer to himself, situating his gangling limbs underneath himself. He was desperate for warmth, tucking his head deep into his own chest and hiding among his own down.

He cared not for his own surroundings — before the Bone King's cairn. Everything was too bright and cold to think of anything other than that.

The hybrid had been rather clingy as of late, frequenting his father's cairn and speaking to the bones, whispering to the chrysalis growing fervently before them. Whatever festered within was shifting, moving more and more by the day. Eythan had eventually given up sleeping in his own nest, instead carefully weaving his way beneath his father's preserved wing. He had mastered the art of such so that he would not disturb a single bone or trinket. Nothing but dust and cobwebs would be stirred from their place. They would stick to his pelt instead.

But, today, he was limping up the beaten, worn path. His wings ached from the long flight home, still, despite the days that had passed. Besides, there was a leisurely notion to walking when he had the blessing of flight. Eythan's ears flickered back every time he put just too much weight on his left leg, but the pain was subsiding and his wound was healing. He could bend his leg at the ankle once again, a fortunate thing.

Rather than go back, however, his ears arched forth, taking in the soft, tell-tale sound of crackling. Stone splitting, giving forth innocent new life. The hybrid hobbled up the trail faster, wings flapping frantically to give him some semblance of speed. As he arrived at the peak, just before entering the hidden cairn, Eythan whirled around. With a strong cry into the bowels of Canis ("Giggle!") he scampered into the den and found him.

Eythan never saw his father in his youth, of course. Nor were there any other birds like him, that he knew of. He never knew the young face of the Bone King — only the world-weary, aged, marred skull that lay on its pedestal, watching over Canis and now the pathetic whelp at its mercy. But there it lay. His brother. Born and shivering with life that had discovered cold. He was scarcely larger than Eythan's own head, covered in all manner of dark, fluffy down.

Tears threatened to spill over his cheeks as the hybrid tread carefully toward the hatchling. First, he stepped over the neonate, then he quietly and meticulously settled around it. A croon escaped his beak as he gently tucked the shivering newborn beneath his chest and between his forelegs. As the infant knew warmth once more, he began to shiver less and peeped softly, snuggling into the warmth.

@Giggle

Giggle watched.

She often watched--in silence, through the fungus, through the Hallowed Caller she called her familiar.

Now she watched, silent, as Eythan cradled the newborn. When she was absolutely certain he wasn't going to harm the little one--and she was tensely afraid that he would--she took the few steps over the ridge and into view. It took a great deal of self-control to stop herself rushing forward before that... pushing Eythan away--she still didn't trust him, not entirely, but the bones had insisted that his motives were not dark.

Not anymore.

"Eythan. Little one," she rasped, moving closer. She didn't push Eythan away; instead she extended her muscular neck, sniffing at the little one.

Beautiful, she thought, and was somehow surprised to see that it had wings, and pleased. A bone king should. It looked dark, scruffy, but--well, adorable. With a soft nuzzle she sat back and flicked her ears back, lifting her eyes to look over the pair of them.

The siblings.

One protecting the other, cradling; the other leaning in, shivering-cold. Her mind, blank for a moment, murmured--and it held so much emotion that, for a beat, she thought that she might break again. ...Perhaps this will work after all.

She made to speak to the pair of them, and then realized the little one might not understand. But after a brief struggle, she found herself unable to open a link to the baby's mind--no matter. The hatchling would have to listen to her words, and learn. And then, someday, speak.

"Hello, Child of Azazel. Child of mine," she rasped as softly as a female hyena could. A lick to the baby's head, a few moments attempting to groom it where it lay beneath Eythan's protective crouch, and she continued, sitting back--but close, remaining close, for this was her child as much as it had been the Bone King's, and she only truly felt it now.

Only truly loved it now.

"I am Giggle, your mother. This is Eythan, your brother, and we are family." Gently, warmly.

Omen, recovered enough to fly by now, lifted off with a haunting cry from somewhere behind the ridge, and began to circle higher and higher. Her cries rang out, calling the other children of Giggle, should they be anywhere near.

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ROLL THE BONES

@Auré @Eythan @Skeena @Vinea

Home.

It had called to him, the bones and the rot and carrion-stink of the rats (which, of course, Vinea did not miss at all.) But, first and foremost, Mother had somehow reached out to him across the caves — he felt — with a bolt of magicka and a quiet murmur. The strange creature had been absent for entirely too long and the bonecaster was calling him home. It was a warm beckoning to home and he couldn't ignore it. So, he bid his strange spider friend adieu and ran after it. He ran through winding tunnel after winding tunnel, taking every little shortcut he had discovered in the past few cycles and using them to his best ability.

And he was here, listening to the distant, haunting keen of Mother's bird. Omen lilted softly, circling a place he hadn't been before. Vinea gave a guttural chirp in response, ambling toward the wall and easily scaling the vertical cliffside. Ah, he had missed the dryness of Canis's stone.

The hybrid clambered over the edge, bright eyes widening at the sight unfolding. Mother standing over a strange creature (kettle, meet pot) he had never seen before, who then laid atop another strange creature. Both were distinctly bird-like, so he presumed they were related. Parent and child? But who was the gryphon?

"Who are you?? What's going on? Baby??"

His thoughts, exactly.

The hybrid watched from afar.

She had heard the other hybrid's yell of her Mother's name, and came running. But as it approached the scent of chrysalis fluid and the sound of chrysalis shards being crunched became obvious. So she slowed, knowing how important this was to Mother, and not wanting to distract her from such a thing.

She didn't know everything of Azazel, or of Eythan. But she knew enough, enough to know how much Mother hurt. And knew Mother didn't trust Eythan, but was beginning to, at least somewhat.

And there was Mother, watching Eythan from a ridge as the winged-cat hybrid approached the baby Gembound. From this distance, she couldn't quite make out too much of the Newborn Boneking. She could make out wings, and hind-legs but no fore, and brown fur, but little else.

The bird-shitcat approached the baby hybrid, and curled around it. And then Mother was approaching, too, greeting the child. But it was only when Omen called out, crowing for Giggle-children, that she approached, only to be startled as - "Vinea?!" approached.

How many cycles had it been since she had seen her Brother? He had grown, she could tell, even from his place peering over a ledge. He would tower over her if he stood before her, but at the moment he was far away, and so she turned her attention to the baby, crooning, "Welcome, Mother's-child."

@Serek @Eythan @Giggle @Vinea

Giggle sat, gently and slowly, but leaned over to offer nose-presses of greeting to both Vinea and Skeena. Both were affectionate gestures, and she found herself wishing only that Serek could be here.

She looked back, then, to Eythan, and to the baby. It was mimicking, and she gave it a soft look of approval, before again--more gently--trying to open some sort of link mind-to-mind. It was like dream-walking, but without sleep, and when she felt the connection only barely slip into place, she was careful not to overload it.

A sense of well-being, she sent--a mother's love, and warmth, and the idea that all was well, and all were family. And as she spoke, she too felt what she was saying, so that perhaps the child could understand that much better.

"Giggle," she agreed, hoarse but gentle. "And Eythan, Vinea, Skeena--you are one of us. Welcome, yes," and this repeating of words brought with it the mental image of each one present, and the idea, the very feeling, of welcoming. She looked to Skeena, and to Vinea. The mind-link slipped closed as she began to speak.

"It is very good to see you both--and healthy. A great relief. I hope you will stay for awhile. I've a half-eaten rat at the den just below--would either of you be willing to retrieve it for the newborn?" She glanced to Aure; she had no idea what gender the little one was, yet, so she didn't mention one. If it was a bone King she certainly hoped it was male. (This was thought with amusement.) "It is the child of myself, and of Aza'zel, the lost Bone King. Eythan had his stone, and it is now alive once more. It may grow to be the Bone King itself; time will tell. I would like it if you all simply tried to look out for one another, as family, as we've always done. You're good children," she added, this last with a glance back at Skeena and Vinea--and then even a little nod toward Eythan.

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ROLL THE BONES

@Eythan