Giggle listened as her King spoke, and her blood ran cold, her nerves going taut. She turned and fixed him with a steely stare.

"Firstly, I do not--did I even tell you about the hallucinations? I don't remember, but Aza'zel, I do not control them. They are as likely to point him toward us as the enemy as anything, or send him into a further rage--and I have to be very, very close, for that to work."

She pondered, for a moment, grinding her teeth at the bone pile.

"If you go into this with no plan and blind optimism, King, you will condemn us to death. It's a foolish idea. Have you seen Bones? His injuries? Do you know who caused that? It was the dragon. It was Baratheon." Her voice was dark, and she sighed sharply through her nose. "I've been wondering how to handle it. What to do about it. Baratheon may be too dangerous to allow to live, if he can't find his guidance--but perhaps you can be that guidance. If we can free him, somehow, not only will he work for us--and be eager to make up for his injuries on Bones, assuming he hasn't changed so greatly--but we would be able to work toward controlling him. Toward helping him learn to control himself. If you're going to insist on letting them come here first, let them run into blood long before they find us."

She eyed over the bones, sharply kicking one into the pile and standing with a soft growl, pacing stiffly around the edge and glaring in.

"The bones warn again against a sacrifice, Aza'zel. Against a negotiation, a deal. It will lead to defeat." She paced, to and fro, faster and faster--growling under her breath and raising her tail like a short flag, glaring at the bones as if they were the source of all of her problems.

He isn't listening. He isn't hearing me. I can't focus on the bones--not like this. He'll end up with all of us dead, if he dives in with no plan. The bones--they are showing allies. But we have no allies. Wealth? What is wealth? What has--...

Giggle froze, staring down. She raised her head to look at Aza'zel.

"Bone King," she said abruptly, and rather more quietly. "They speak again of allies. Do we have allies? I never leave this cave. They are speaking of mutual need--and not of combat. They mention water, I do not know why. They aren't saying we should get someone to fight for us. They are saying to get information. Knowledge. It's the only way to succeed. Were I you, I would go to everyone I know outside of the Bonebound, and ask them what they know of your enemy--and how to stop them. It's the only way I see us getting out alive," she added with a stern growl and a stare at her King.

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Roll the bones.

Giggle shook her head, though not in disagreement so much as thought. She was mollified by Aza'zel's agreement to her words; truly she wasn't angry, just concerned for her "family" and her home.

"No, it's a good idea, but if they're not utter fools--and as much as I'd like to assume, I can't--they'd have a scout running in advance. They won't blindly stumble into that. It'll have to be more subtle, I should think, unless we plan to slick the walls of the tunnel with blood and keep them out forever."

But let it never be said that Giggle was not a loyal subject, for she straightened, then, turning to look Aza'zel in the eye once again. Tone wry, she answered simply. "We, hrm? Well, I've never set foot outside of Canis. Perhaps now's the time. I'm right behind you." It was her wicked humor that prompted her to add, "Promise I won't bite your tailfeathers."

And then she was stepping down and away, ready to be led to this place called Pisces.

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Roll the bones.

Giggle chortled softly, the sound carrying well enough. She glanced back over her bones one more time for any final wisdom--relaxed, now, her moods mercurial in the face of war--and was surprised to note an odd tangle of them. Her mind made the shapes, formed the interpretation, before she could think about it

You'll... miss me?

But even as she faltered in her step, utterly startled, her brain formed the other patterns from the weaving of the bones.

This is the right course. You do well. Spoken word and wisdom. A wealth that propagates itself.

Giggle knew that the bones--or perhaps it was her fungus, infiltrating her mind, twining with the past, the present, the future, the arcane, feeding it to her directly--she knew that they did not mean literal wealth. Perhaps they referred to wisdom being its own creator; certainly the wise could find more truths than a fool? Or maybe that was a dangerous generalization to make, but nonetheless...

Or perhaps it referred to diplomacy. If they formed bonds now with another group, an alliance, even only one of speech and convenience, perhaps it would prove further beneficial in the future.

All the hyena really knew as she strode out of the cave, breaking into a trot and then a rocking, crooked lope to keep up with her King, was that she was content. Her path right now--their path--was the correct one; it was the one that would lead them to victory. She was certain of this--and, despite the oncoming war, all the bonecaster could feel was peace.

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Roll the bones.