Giggle perked a brow, watching Aure as she did.
"Well, I wasn't gonna go that far," she answered bluntly, to his statement that Damask wasn't some sort of assassin.
"It's her happiness I'm worried about. That's my job--no, that's not the right word." Giggle paused, mulling it over for a moment.
"It's my responsibility. To make sure our people aren't trying to cope with anything they can't." Another pause--a long one--as she eyed her son.
She shook her head, then, a little sadly, and turned away to flop along the rock, huffing dog-like before thinking aloud.
"Her chrysalis, huh? And she saw the death? Why haven't you talked to her about it? If you'd built up a half-decent base with her, and I assume you have, it shouldn't be hard?"
Giggle eyed Aure sidelong.
"And why didn't you tell me any of this before?" she added.
"We could've talked it over and tried to work something out."
As to her child's question, she thought it over, looking away.
"I saw fear for her, didn't I? But I said it'd work out. Here's the thing, Aure," she added, looking back to him just a little sharply--and it wasn't a mother-sharpness, it wasn't authoritative but almost
angry. "Things don't work out on their own. We're a family and we should have all been helping her with this all along. She's a tricky one, though, I'll admit; it bothers her to talk about things, so she avoids them. Is it wrong to push her-?" Giggle considered, looking away for a moment. And she took that time, again, to check that they weren't being watched, Omen still circling overhead.
A moment of focus told her they were alone, well and truly; she extended her senses farther out to see. Then she lay back, and closed her eyes, pulling her mind from the caves deep into herself.
"I faced trauma," she murmured, and it didn't have the air of a painful admission so much as again, thinking aloud.
"Let's see. I retreated, too. Sort of. I didn't know what the hell was real or not, though. And everything scared me. Little things would set me off." She mulled this over, for a moment. So far as she was concerned, Damask was a victim; but more than that, Giggle knew what it was like to live in fear. That was, at least in part, the reason for her worry. She took the well-being of the Bonebound members as her own responsibility, that much was true, but
fear resonated with her. Fear was something she knew intimately. Fear was the
enemy.
She shifted in place.
"The thing is, I benefitted from having family close. Warmth. Though--I knew 'em from before. Maybe if they were strangers, pushed on me, I'd have been made worse?" Eyes remained closed as she tried to puzzle through this, brow knitting.
"I always had Canis to come back to. Maybe-..."
The hyena grimaced with all this effort, and opened her eyes, and looked to Aure. Her voice was still kept relatively quiet, despite the fact Giggle knew they were safe, as she peered to him.
"Does she have her own den, Aure? A safe spot of her own, some kind of sanctuary she can retreat to? That might be a good first step. Let her pick out a spot, if she hasn't got one, help her decorate it if she wants you to, and tell her that if she goes in there no one can bother her. It can be her... 'time out.' But once she's got that, we should introduce her to new things. And address the death, I think. That might be something I can best handle, with a little..." and here, she nodded off toward the bone pile,
"mystical mumbo-jumbo. Some magic and some bones, some visions of what I knew of your father. Maybe it's time the Bonebound had a coming-of-age ritual," she added thoughtfully.
"Some mushrooms to help their mind along, and a guided journey back to our roots, to see all of us that came before. Get an idea of their place in us. That might help her, though I want to ask the bones."
She looked to her son with a slight grimace, aware now that she'd rambled some--half thinking aloud, half hopping between topics. But she was a practical sort, and the dual-pronged plan seemed decently wise to her. But it was Aure's child, too, not just a member of the Bonebound; and Giggle was treading cautiously. She didn't know how Aure might react. She didn't fear ruining their relationship--that was solid, and she knew he'd not take this as an attack (at least, she hoped... little did she know, really). But it was a fairly pointed topic, brought up out of nowhere, and there was hardly any precedent for how to handle it.
A king and his Seer, and a son and his mother; a family member, a daughter, a granddaughter, and
problems. She only hoped it could be solved smoothly, or at least, in the way of trauma,
addressed and helped smoothly.
"What do you think?" she asked him, pulled into a sphinxlike pose across the rock.
rain stock: D Sharon Pruitt wiki commons; hyena Benjamin Hollis on flickr