Giggle gave a nod to the snail.

"Thank you," she said bluntly, and then pushed her way beneath the limp Lorekeeper, with Eythan's help.

Damask's attempt to pointlessly lead confused and irritated her. Why did she think they needed her to take charge--how did she think she could navigate better-? But curiosity quickly rose up, and she tilted her head, tone genuine as she asked. "Have you got some way to navigate back, Damask?" she called. Had she somehow marked the way with magic-? She hadn't said so, if she had, but the way she was calling out for them to follow her had Giggle wondering.

In any case, she thought she could find her own way well enough; she'd seen the passage through two minds, Batcat's and Omen's. She still wasn't quite sure who Batcat was, but that was fine. For the moment, she was plodding under Lorekeeper's uncomfortable weight.

It was a long, long trek, and required frequent stops--but when they at last emerged into Canis, when they struggled, sore and tired, to gently deposit Lorekeeper against the back wall, Giggle collapsed, panting. She grimaced and looked around for Morpho--for the painting.

"This is where she normally lives. Can you put it here-?" she asked.

rain stock: D Sharon Pruitt wiki commons; hyena Benjamin Hollis on flickr

@Morpho @Eythan @Damask @Sharp (I'll tag CJ after a couple days I guess??)

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.

exit

She was lost in her sleep, fatigue having claimed her so much so that her dreams were but empty wastelands; she was asleep, and only asleep. When she was nestled back into her own den, her eyes opened briefly to see those who had escorted her, and Damask, who had made sure she was comfortable. It would be later, of course, that she would wake to find the gift of feathers left behind; of which, she would surely be grateful for.

A quiet whisper breathed from her mouth as her eyes closed once again, "Thank you."

(wrapping this up as there seems to be no others !!)

The hyena flopped down beside her, sighing once.

"Thank you," she offered, wearily, to those who had aided; a special nod for Eythan, one of gratitude.

For a moment she fussed over Lorekeeper, checking her over, settling her in place.

Then her head sunk to her paws, and she sprawled out, herself, to rest. She wasn't sure what all that had been about--but as long as Lorekeeper was happy, she was fine with it, too.

rain stock: D Sharon Pruitt wiki commons; hyena Benjamin Hollis on flickr

exit the Giggs