ORIGIN

She knew--vaguely--what she planned.

She'd even brought a stick. Don't touch it, she repeated to herself, again and again, if you find it. Just get a sample, and bring it back. Control it remotely. Don't let it spread too far. Omen, even, had strict instructions, though whether the bird would follow them, Giggle wasn't sure.

What will you do, if I get changed by this fungus? she asked, for the twentieth time. AURE! MOTHER-FUNGUS HAS MOTHER-SISTER! AURE! AURE! HELP AURE! MOTHER-FUNGUS! Omen shrieked, excitedly, along the link. The words were... close enough; the bird didn't understand most of it but her ability to parrot the correct message, to the correct person, was what counted. Giggle sent faint relief, humor, and most of all approval down that link, and bid Omen stay where she'd left her: in Canis, ready to fly to the Bone King, if need be. She was grateful for the bird's survival; the damage Eythan had done had taken weeks to heal, in the end, but Omen still remained her steadfast companion. Thank the bones.

Giggle paused, taking stock of the tunnel ahead.

Quiet, now, she offered gently; I need to concentrate. And, true to her kind good nature, the bird fell silent, seeming to fade away along their link.

Tunnel O was her first choice to search. Cetus-... Well, the fungi Master had seen, she thought, to that. Unless there'd been hidden hives, and she hadn't sensed those. The chrysalis had been cleansed, the hive destroyed, all infected Lessers torn from hiding, and torn apart. Giggle was banking on the idea that some of the Lessers might have left, over time, to nearby caves before that cleansing.

She didn't want to bring about Mother's dominance, and husks. But the bones had been clear: Mother was necessary. Giggle was to seek her out, and bring her back--and she planned to. The irony was clear enough; she already had fungus growing on herself, and in her garden. Mother's fungus would be 'safe' with her, as best it could be--she couldn't tell it apart from any other at a distance, and neither, then, could Astraea. At least, that's what she hoped. But it made it deadly, too. If she made even a single mistake--if she got infected, somehow, herself--no one might ever know. It might take her over, and control her.

She had to hope she didn't do that. And that if she did, Omen managed to warn the others in time--in time to cleanse her, Giggle, before she did any damage.

But back to business. Had any infected Lessers escaped Cetus, before the purge? That, she didn't know. But if they had, this place was a good spot to check. It was broad, damp; a little oddly chilly, perhaps, but warm enough to support fungal life, especially on a good, warm body. It was fairly lifeless, but that would just make it easier to check over. And if she found nothing here, she could go to Eridanus, to Pisces, and to Tunnel H, though she preferred to avoid the latter. It was the most likely bet, and thus also the worst place to actually check, bar Cetus itself: if Astraea was still hunting Hive, that's where he might look.

So this was the place to check first in terms of both chance of Hive, and avoiding that particular Master.

Giggle picked up her long stick, the branch held tightly in her jaws--she'd picked it up along the way--and sent out her senses, carefully.

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One by one, like a bones-damned Naskital-tree, the entirety of the tunnel, in her mind, lit up. Oh, holy shit, she thought, dark eyes widening.

The tunnel was full of fungus. But it may not be the right fungus, she reminded herself--and then some of it began to move.

Ahh. It was. If it was moving, like this, then it was on Lessers--or Greaters, even; and most likely, then, it was the fungus known as 'Mother.'

Fear thrilled through her, and tense determination. She had to do this right, or she risked herself--she risked all of them, all the Bonebound, and everybody else.

Slowly she stalked forward, stick warily in her mouth, eyes searching the tunnel. There were cave deer about, she was sure, but they were too big to hide, really--more likely it would be rats, mice, and bats up on the low, broad roof. None were coming toward her; they seemed to be in hiding.

Good. Perfect, in fact.

The hyena slipped forward, attempting to come up on the nearest shifting, shuffling source, without being seen. She paused, then, considering; how could she get close? The answer came to her, though she considered it doubtfully. She could try to lure them out; she was not a stealthy creature and it was doubtful she could creep to the roof. But she could draw them down.

She focused, and the moment a bright yellow banana appeared--out of nowhere, as they did--she leaned foreward and carefully split it with her teeth.

She ate a little, for herself, because damn it smelled good; and then she carefully positioned it. She left it in the center of the tunnel and paced away, crouching herself behind a nearby rock.

rain stock: D Sharon Pruitt wiki commons; hyena Benjamin Hollis on flickr

Right. I know what this shit can do. I know how to avoid infection. I just have to be careful. But still, the fear held her in its grip, ancient nightmares threatening the edges of her mind.

She lay in a crouch for near a half an hour, before at last something approached the fruit. Drawn by the sweet scent, first one black Flying Pitch Rat bat--and then another, and another, the small and social colony all joining the first--landed to investigate. Soon enough they were all lapping at the banana, not fighting over it but quickly sharing.

It would, Giggle knew, be gone in seconds. And it would be difficult, if not impossible, for her to focus on a single bat. She wasn't even sure which of them, or how many, in the tightly-clustered group were infected: she'd have to send her magic out in a surge, and hope to tear the fungus free.

And then, to hope that it was the right one.

She took a couple low-to-the-ground steps forward, catlike, and--grimacing with focus--sent out her magicka in a surge.

It caught--on what, she wasn't sure, but she tugged on it and tore. There were frantic squeaks--and then the rest of the bats panicked, too, and the whole colony had taken flight, and fled.

But she was left with a fungal sample, there on the ground--a mass of pulsating white. There was a little other fungus, too--some infection or other one of them had had; but the white was what she was interested in. She grimaced, forcing it into what remained of the banana peel, hoping it would find something to eat there.

Long enough, at least, for her to take it back to her garden.

rain stock: D Sharon Pruitt wiki commons; hyena Benjamin Hollis on flickr

Right. Next step.

Retrieve her stick. Pick up the sample. And then get the fuck home without Astraea--or anybody else--noticing her. She knew how silly she'd look; a running hyena, heavily out of breath and scrambling along with a four-foot-branch sticking out of her jaws, running flat-out most of the way back to Cetus. She knew, too, that she'd have to rest along the way, probably quite a few times. But she'd take back routes home, avoiding Polaris and any of the other caves, or at least keeping to the sides of them. Away from landmarks--out of sight.

The moment of truth, then; and everything else thus far had gone so smoothly... Grimacing, opening that link to Omen, warning her that now was the time it might all go wrong, Giggle picked up the stick in her jaws... and scooped fungus, and banana, into a clot atop its end.

She paused, for a long moment, and waited, tense, every nerve quivering.

...But nothing happened.

...Mother-sister? prompted Omen, at last.

I'm here, Sister-Daughter. Remember... if you hear another voice, you go to Aure. But I'm okay for now. Relief, then, and quiet, attentive, dutiful waiting. Watching.

Giggle turned, stick cautiously held in her teeth--watching the fungus a few feet away, and expecting Astraea to appear any second--and made her way from the tunnel, homeward bound.

rain stock: D Sharon Pruitt wiki commons; hyena Benjamin Hollis on flickr