Bones had been hesitant to return to Eridanus since everything with Baratheon, and Booker, and Louie and-- well, everything. The Mother, specifically, held some fairly bad memories for him. The abuse, and the heartbreak, and having to sit with Booker as strange things happened to him and he started calling himself by different names. It was too much.

Bones tried his best to be supportive, but it was difficult.

Returning was difficult. He'd only wanted to take a walk, with the beloved femur bone in his mouth-- for comfort, of course. And he did. He wandered along the ferns and the trees, sniffing the newly-grown plants. Eridanus had changed so much in the last thirty-odd cycles.

There'd been fires, and wars, and things Bones could never have imagined, really. He was glad he wasn't there for them, at least. For any of them. He didn't want a repeat of Baratheon. Or Louie.

Bones weaved along the plants until he reached the base of the Mother. The gigantic white mushroom in the centre of the room, looming and... almost intimidating. Booker treated it like his mother. Owlfeather, too. Bones never quite understood why they'd want a mother who never did anything but stand there. Bones liked having a mom that spoke.

For a moment, the dog only stood there, watching, but eventually, something caught his eye. A white thing, barely-glinting in the grass. His ears lifted, eyes widened. It must have only been the size of his own nail but he saw it anyway.

Hesitantly, he pushed up and made his way towards it, touching his nose against it. The cold, hard gemstone made him realise what it was immediately. He'd seen it in Canis many times, stuck to old bones. "I'm sorry," he murmured to it, though a part of him knew that it wouldn't be heard.

Was there even anything he could do?

Uncertain, and feeling guilty for whatever reason, Bones shut his eyes and reached out. Casting magic was unfamiliar to him, not something he did very often, but he found something. A flow of magic that rose in his chest and breathed out of his very mouth.

The gemstone under him shuddered, and shifted. Then, it took root in the ground, sprawling out like a plant. Bones recoiled, alarmed-- but mesmerized with watching. The tiny hunk of anandite grew before his eyes, from the size of a nail, to the size of a small rat.

Had... he done something?

Bones was unsure. He'd never tried to revive anything before. He felt, however, that he'd done enough. The dog picked up his bone and went back to quietly exploring Eridanus, damn near mournful for the atrocities that had happened here.