ORIGIN

She was lying curled at the top of her bone pit, snoozing contentedly; Omen lay snuggled in the inner coil of her body, up along her ribs and flank. The bird had missed her, and she the bird, and Omen had hardly left her side since her return.

Bayo's voice roused her. Her head came up, dark eyes blinking blearily open, large ears pricking up. The Hallowed Caller awoke too, reaching up to preen the hyena's whiskers. They shared a moment of amused but genuine warmth, and then Giggle pushed up and stretched.

"Here, yup," she called, loud as she could manage. She'd rested here and there in her pile and at her den since her return, and while Omen had assured her that her family was alive and well (at least, those of recent era; she hadn't seen Vinea in awhile), she hadn't seen them all yet.

Thick jaws split in a yawn, and she began a slow lope toward Bayo's voice, Omen hopping up to ride atop her back.

It would be good to see her son again.

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Bayo's affectionate greeting was returned, albeit as a somewhat more sedate pace; motherly affection was lavished in a few nudges and licks on her son, amusement and warmth in her eyes. Omen squawked and fluttered up, but wasn't truly bothered; the bird had happily joined piles with the younger children but it was another thing to be practically bounced upon by an adult!

"I don't think anybody died," she answered, half taken-aback and half amused by her son's flippancy on the topic. "...Needless to say, if anybody else asks, try to be a little more serious in case they're upset about it, all right? But I don't know if there was a fight. I fell down a big hole. A giant worm-thing with a lot of spikes and stuff came up from the ground, and I fell, and went back into my stone. I'm afraid I probably missed the action," she added, with a shrug. From what little she'd been able to find out so far, nothing had really happened; the group had just... turned back, though wounded. But no deaths. "Except maybe the worm!"

If only she'd known that a mirror of the creature that had nearly killed her had killed her other, missing son-

Dark eyes roved over Bayo dutifully as he reintroduced himself, and for a moment she was about to indulge him with a somewhat enhanced act of being impressed. But something struck her about it; suddenly, Bayo looked like he'd grown, in her absence. He looked older, more sure of himself; more capable and genuinely courageous.

Dark brow perked, she looked him over a second time.

Huh, she thought, and didn't think anything more of it.

"Bayo the Brave, huh?" she asked, and padded over to flop down again close by (not quite having finished her sleep). But her attention was fully on the coy-ena. "Why 'the Brave?' And yeah, you look great, kiddo! That scarf's fantastic. Where'd you get it?"

It was both a polite question, and a curious one; she'd always wanted sort of... trinkets and decoration, herself, but one didn't see pristine cloth in the caves all that often. It must have been a craftsman; but who?

"So what've you been up to while I was gone? Everyone okay, d'you know?"

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"It is good nobody died," she agreed, companionably. I hope, was the thought on the tail end of that.

She leaned into him a little as he rolled about, content with his presence, but her mind was on his words--attentively listening to every one. He's 'brave' now, huh? she thought, and it was just a warm, motherly thought--amused--but for an instant something uglier reared its head from her subconscious. A challenge to bravery. Would he be brave if he were grabbed by the void, if he were sucked into-

STOP it, Giggs, she commanded herself at once, cutting off that train of thought before it could get underway. But it was an awful one--the idea of Bayo, in all his cheerful innocence and goodwill, being dragged into the horrors of the nothing. He'd scream, and scream- Enough. The thought was calm, because she was near trembling at even the thought of her son in that situation.

She had to struggle, to turn her mind back from this to what he was saying--happy, he was happy, cheerful. She forced her own cheer back. It was fake, at first, but it would come. She just had to forget that empty horror she'd felt for a moment there. (It took her at the most unexpected times.) "Well, no, it was a big worm. Really big, and pale, with giant pinchers and stuff. But you're brave, you could've fought it. No problem," she joked, good-naturedly. (The color bled back into her world, a little.) "Anyway, helping Gembounds in need's a great cause. Even the little things, like you say," she added. "I think it's a great idea." Encouragement given, she turned her attention to what he was saying about his scarf.

Dark muzzle wrinkled up a little, a squint of thought. "The Collector, huh?" she asked, and cast another (more doubtful) glance over the scarf. But it just looked like a scarf, to her. She opened her senses to it, for a moment--there was magic in it, she thought, but it was so faint as to be almost undetectable. Weak, minor--that didn't mean 'not dangerous,' and she gave Bayo a wary glance. "I don't know if I'd trust the Collector. That scarf's got some kind of magic on it, and I don't know what it is," she told him, blunt but careful not to hurt his feelings. Maybe it was nothing major. She really couldn't tell, but she'd heard enough of the black-cloaked figure to not quite trust his judgment.

She took note that her other children were well, and then Bayo was hopping to another topic with the same enthusiasm he used to leap physically around the cave. "You didn't have to--oh, you do? Sure, kiddo, I can teach you," she agreed. It occurred to her--and she considered warning him--that the bones didn't answer to everyone; but if he felt the calling, maybe the link was already there.

"You go ahead and nap first," she added, with a laugh. "I think I'll finish mine, and then we can wander over and learn about the bones, okay?" Their first reading trickled back again--all the kids's; the warning they'd wind up alone.

That hadn't happened, yet--well, not really. It might, she reflected, be a good time to ask them about that.

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Oh, apparently he was napping--right here, out in the open, without-... Well, okay. She hadn't expected that, but she accepted it with a mental shrug.

The idea of him trying to take on the ice worm was both amusing and alarming, and she gave a soft snort of amusement--kind, instead of mocking--"It's a big critter, Bayo. I don't think I need avenging, anyway. At least, I hope not." She felt fine, really.

She was drifting off when he spoke, her head on her paws, half-alert to his sprawled-out form alongside her. "-Hm?" she asked, dark eyes slipping open again. "What is it?"

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She listened quietly, heart dropping a little at Bayo's admission and the fact that he'd been so afraid. So that's what this is about, she thought, in a mild and somewhat saddened sort of way.

Giggle considered her answer before replying; she stayed lying down, though, on the verge of sleep, her words a comforting murmur.

"Being afraid's okay, Bayo. It's natural, so don't be ashamed of it. I've been afraid plenty of times." Fucking terrified, in fact. Case in point: about twenty seconds ago.

"You can roam whenever you like. You don't need to leave Canis, and if you do you can do it in your own time--but if you want to, I can come with you, or maybe it would help to take someone you know. You could explore together," she suggested. She'd given her kids what little she knew of other caves, but it wasn't much: that Ursa and Hydra were both dangerous, that Polaris was... shiny? And that Orion was pretty boring, if pretty in its own way. But the hyena hadn't actually travelled all that much. Canis was her home, and she was happy there; she fit. "Your brother, Serek--he went to Cetus and joined with the Children of Rot for awhile. Learned from them. He said it's dark, there, and swampy. He came back just fine. You could do that, too. In any cave, I mean," she elaborated. The point she was trying to make was simply that some of her kids did go out and travel, and as scary as it was, they were fine.

She didn't mention the kids--adopted or otherwise--who had gone out and come back damaged, scarred, burned and screaming. Or hadn't come back at all. Shit happened--as horrible and tragic as it was. It didn't mean she would bury her children before they had truly lived, to keep them safe at home. She wasn't that kind of mom. Instead she'd done her best to teach them, here and there, and she'd encourage them; they could live their own lives.

As worried as that made her.

The other memories never left her, after all. Kerberos, frantically howling her name. Bones, strewn across the floor, weakly calling for his Mother--his back torn, burnt across it. How he'd suffered--he'd stopped crying early on but she had known, when he'd taken to painting, when he couldn't walk anymore. Giggle closed her eyes. "Don't ever be ashamed of being afraid, though. You can admit it just fine." Because there's plenty to be fucking scared of. You'd be crazy not to be afraid.

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