finally. damask eyed the bone fortress up and down. this was the den — a humble, macabre sort of home. she exhaled and turned to lorekeeper herself: a slumped and crumpled skeleton against the west wall. she had been lowered with care, and it was better than if she'd been flat on the floor, but ... not good enough. damask approached, skirting around the others, and swallowed her reservations. it's me and she's asleep. she almost drowned, she told a beautiful story, and she was nothing but kind to us. she deserves her own kindness. a nudge here, a nudge there — delicate as anything, no teeth, no claws, only her nose — and she'd arranged her into a marginally less awkward position. not comfortable, by any means, but without so many bones and spikes elbowing into the stone.

this done, the bird of prey retreated and picked her way around the site, peering into the den. wait. is that ... ? electricity crackled inside. a closer look confirmed her suspicions; it was a feather, the very same as the ones she carried in the cup at her chest. she set the vessel down, contents sparking beside their lost-and-found sibling. a tiny smile touched her lips. she'll like that.

there. her work here was done. damask turned into the open to face the rest of her company, regarding each one in turn: eythan, morpho, the little lizard —

ah, giggle, and an avalanche of emotion came rushing back in.

you. don't touch me, don't talk to me, don't even look at me — ! one minute you're telling me i did a good job, and the next you're undermining me left and right? of course i had some way of navigating us back, you know this, those chambers were the first thing i ever mapped, and i got us back fine, didn't i? i said i knew the way, eythan asked me to lead, and you had to wait 'til just then to say something? and what, were you gonna do any better with half a body on your old, tired back? is it too much to ask to let me contribute something? am i really that useless to you? how am i supposed to make you HAPPY?

all of which she had condensed at the time into a deadpan "yes, giggle, i do" — and all of which she condensed now into a subtle skip of eye contact, neatly avoiding the hyena altogether. "best to let her sleep," damask said quietly, mindful of prematurely waking their charge. at least one of them was. simmer down. that's enough. all of a sudden, her headache had returned in full force. she stepped back. "excuse me."

a pivoting sweep of her tail, and the accipiter bowed out, rounding the fortress and taking flight thereafter. okay, kid, take it easy — breathe — cool off. remember the story, the surface, the sky? she did. a heaving sigh of release as she angled towards a crevice in the wall, far overhead; a good, safe place to close her eyes and tremble her tension away. there you go. no ceiling — think about that. dream about it.