backdated to May 3rd, with permission, taking place right after this thread

Giggle had seen a thousand thousand stories, in the visions she'd been given. It was overwhelming, it was confusing, it was terrible and--in some sense--it was beautiful. Life, she'd found, was bittersweet. There were moments of wonder, moments of horror, everything in between.

Creating new life was one of the moments of wonder. And it was a new story all its own; the child would have its own experiences, its own moments of beauty and terror. Giggle always did her best to make sure her kids had good lives, but granting that life was always reverential for her. She felt compelled, too, to ensure that the lost stones of Canis had some second chance. The bones, she thought of them as, given new life.

But this was more than that. A Visitor--The Visitor--had come to her, specifically. They'd given her this staff, one she could feel the magic humming from, and instructed her on how to give it new life. It held life within it, they'd said. 'Arcane,' and she felt that might mean the type of magic that it held. And she was to grant it a piece of her stone.

But a child shouldn't be raised alone; and to that end she was collecting other stones. The staff she'd carefully hidden away, for now, with its sliver of moonstone and its trails of foliage and teeth.

She'd also found a bayldonite, not too long ago--one that looked like it'd once been the top of a smaller creature's head. She'd set this hidden but nowhere near the staff, lest she accidentally revive the wrong stone with it. Now, she was on the hunt for another; a third to round out a possible litter.

A third new story to begin.

The stone she found was a deep wine-red edging into orange, a Brookite, and its magic was weak. But she'd give it a shot nonetheless. She nudged it where it lay attached to an old bone, and then pried it carefully free with her jaws before carrying it at an idle, padding pace back to her chosen 'nest.' It was just beside her little alcove, with its pool of water and overhanging plants.

She set it carefully down, and then went about readying everything.

It wasn't that she was nervous. No, it is. No excuses. Honestly, she had no idea what would happen when she granted a gemstone piece to that staff. But... it was time.

She leaned back, sitting as she regarded the two stones, and then pushed off her haunches again to go and get the staff. That one, she'd decided, would come first.

When she returned, Omen was perched on a bleach-dead branch close by. It had been a tree Oliver'd tried to grow there, but it had gradually died; now it looked like the bones that were everywhere in this cave. What doing, Mother-Sister? the bird thought at her--in concepts, moreso than words, but Giggle's mind made language of them nonetheless. "I'm having new children," she answered aloud. "It'll be awhile before they hatch," she added, amused, with a glance back--the Hallowed Caller had immediately gotten excited, thinking she meant right now.

Giggle picked the staff up in her teeth. It was unwieldy; not so much heavy as long, hard to balance for a creature that was quadrupedal and had to carry it in her teeth. She moved it to a point to the side of her fungal garden, beneath an outcrop of tan rock, where--as she'd been instructed--there was room for a chrysalis to grow.

Then she tipped her nose down to touch it, letting the sense of awe grip her. This was a gift. A gift from the surface world. From the one who'd brought them to Paradise, and led them to a Wish. It was precious beyond all measure. Her eyes closed, and she breathed, willing a sliver of her gemstone to fall away.

She exhaled softly, opening her eyes to peer. Her stone had clattered into the embrace of the staff's magic, and suddenly, she saw a flare of light. It wasn't immensely bright. It was soft, if anything, a brief flicker of almost cyan that changed to pink as it enveloped her tiny bit of fire agate. She stepped back, watching with a mother's love already curling through her, as the stone went dim again and began to anchor to the rock, already beginning to grow.

She could feel the loss, too, of the tiny sliver of her stone, the power it had held. But it was worth it.

She turned to the next stone, the Bayldonite. She went to it, where she'd left it a distance away, and sat before it, pressing a paw atop it. She could feel Omen fidgeting behind her: eagerly watching and shifting her wings to and fro across her back.

"Let me focus for a moment," she requested, and the Hallowed Caller went still. Giggle turned her attention back to the little green 'skull' stone, and concentrated.

She then sat back, taking a deep breath. It was draining--all of this was. Granting new life took it from the giver, at least to some extent. The old hyena's lips curled back in something like a smile, and she nudged a little sand over the stone to hide it, at least for now.

The third stone was the Brookite, the one that she'd just found. She had no idea what lay within any of these--the life the staff had given, nor the two gemstones she had found. She could only guess that the Bayldonite had been from a smaller creature, given its size and shape--but this one? It was just a hunk of pretty rock, the bone it'd been set in too misshapen and damaged to identify.

But she'd give it a second chance if she could, regardless.

She took it in her teeth and brought it to the other side of the alcove. The staff and its growing agate lay at the head of the den, the Bayldonite at the right, and this one would be opposite, at the left--forming a triangle of growing stones. If, that was, she managed to revive this one.

...There.

She'd done it.

She felt drained beyond belief, and knew another would be too much. It was to be another group of three: three more children for the Bonebound. Three to train, to teach, and to love.

Three more stories to begin.

She heard Omen cry excitedly: an eerie, wailing sort of caw. She glanced up fondly and then stepped forward, carefully covering this stone, too, with some sand just to hide it--to keep it safe while it began to grow.

Then she paced over to the staff.

The sense of latent magic had mostly faded. It wasn't... inert, she didn't think; she couldn't really tell without casting further magic at it, and she was really too weary to try. But much of what it'd had, it'd given to her stone.

"Grow," she urged softly, looking around at the three spots where children had been 'planted.' "And as for you--I'll keep this safe for you. For when you're grown up," she promised, and lifted the staff in her teeth as she eyed her stone chip fondly.

She'd keep it for them. And once the child was grown enough to use it, they'd be given it--as a gift. For now, it was a promise.

exit Giggle