The bones or something other... Tal'at wondered about that silently as the hyena elaborated on the future prediction, settling down on to the curved spine of the canine as she spoke. It seemed like what she had said finally satisfied the strange, small voice, and tiny paws scampered away into the distance leaving them alone once more.

He was still wondering, distracted, about the idea something other. The bat knew that he was to find more, make more sense of things, as he grew to push his visions further... But would he really be able to tell the future as she had?

"Think I understand... Understand soon enough. Will pay attention, let bones speak."

It seemed to be something that interested him. For now, he had the present-- and the past-- to still work out. Maybe that was what was hindering him. "... Tell mine now? If you like." Somehow he hadn't managed to come off as polite as the tiny voice had, which bothered him.

She had used thank you, hadn't she? Perhaps that was the right thing to do... What was the other word.. Please. "If pleases you. I thank you." Yes, that would do, he thought. She certainly didn't have to, but after all of the groveling the small one had done, it had sort of rubbed off on the impressionable bat. Of course, if Giggle didn't want to, that was fair enough. He could not ask her to do more than she already had.

Giggle moved forward without a word, picking her way back down the path after the little fox had gone. She'd just watched her, steely-eyed, as she'd said her goodbyes--impassive, aloof. She had held little interest in the too-cute.

This bat, though... He held potential. And he had something about him, some sort of... It was curiosity, she thought. A hunger for knowledge. It interested her, and it resonated with her--seeking knowledge was her own very strongest motivation. It tied, even, with survival.

Once Giggle had made her way back down, she began to use paws and nose to sweep all of the bones back into place. She hadn't minded Tal'at touching the bones, even during the reading. It was no different than her looking at them; he hadn't moved them, after all. But now she was resetting them, so to speak, piling them back up for the bat's own reading. At length she stopped, looking the pile over; satisfied with her work, she then plucked a strange, misshapen skull from the pile. It was medium-sized, not much to look at, but oversized on one side and withered on the other, as if the creature had been deformed. She didn't see it as a bad thing--but she did see it as quite apt as a representation of the gem-faced little bat that clung to her fur.

"You can glide back down, again, while I read yours, if you want," she said at last, turning to pick her way back up the slope.

Up she went, and around the top of the boulder, until again she was looking down into the pit. She didn't waste time, nor did she engage in small-talk; she was comfortable with Tal'at's presence already, and anyway, she knew he'd want to know what the bones had to say for him, too. At length, she tossed the skull down into the pile--... and flinched, as it struck. There had been a quiet but distinct "crunch," and after a moment, she leaned down to peer. A pointed, up-curved rib had pierced through the side of the skull.

Giggle considered this, for a time, eyes locked on the skull--regardless of whether Tal'at stayed with her, or glided down to touch the bones.

"The bone I chose for you has been pierced. It refers to something that has already happened, or is happening now--a loss, of some kind. A... sacrifice, you have made. I imagine it is your sight, but I do not know for sure. Or someone has wronged you. No justice. I don't think that's it."

Giggle's face took on as close a countenance as hyena-ically possible to a human frown, and she tilted her head slightly as she continued, eyes flicking over the pile. "And then, some of the bones have gotten entangled--there, on the far end. They're stuck. As you are, or will be. You will struggle to progress, to get forward, but it will be slow going, at best. You might go forward not at all, for a time."

Giggle sat slowly, absently, her dark eyes searching for the next hint of meaning in the bones. They were caught by a few bones more deeply entangled to one end of the pile, and she nodded, her expression clearing as she spoke. "In the end, though, you'll find success, little Tal'at, the-tiny-bat. Triumph. Completion."

She turned her head to gaze at the blind creature, calm. "Do you want to hear more about any of these pieces of your puzzle?"

I wonder what it was he lost? Merely his sight? I wonder what he will struggle to do. How he will finally achieve it. Hmm. This one's story has potential for greatness, I think.

________________

Roll the bones.

Tal'at waited for the bone to fall before swooping down after it-- not that he was worried about being hit, but he was concerned he might get in the way. The crunch reached his ears as he glided down, and he curved his wing to twist down to it, landing beside it as Giggle began to speak. As he listened, he realized something small and simple. As Tal'at spoke in sets of three, so did she made her readings in sets of three. It was a small realization, perhaps meaning nothing at all.

He did not consider that he had ever been able to see as he slowly began to assume most did. It did not seem like something that could be taken from him. The only other factor in his life was Zi, RaikZik. Tal'at tried to fit the words with his protector, the one who had saved him from death, and could not work it out. He gently ran his wings over the spine, feeling where the skull had been pierced. A loss, a sacrifice. The ringing crunch in his ears. The bones had spoke.

She continued, warning him his progress would be slow going. Somehow, Tal'at knew this was true. His other senses would take time; he would not be able to see the world ever as the others had, and for now he could only sense Heartbeats from far away, but perhaps eventually he could feel other things... The earth bellow and above, the lush plant life, even the bones, one day, perhaps. His featureless face, smooth and round and heavy, twisted to face the source of her voice as she told him he would succeed in his slow journey to become whole.

He understood. All, except for the beginning. Was there something he had missed, some crucial piece of something he had swept away before he even noticed? Was it simply that he was blind? "What was lost? Or, is losing. Now or past." As she had said, even she was unsure. It seemed reasonable to delve deeper into that matter-- the others seemed straight forward, and it seemed foolish to prod deeper into how he would progress. It would ruin the surprise of the journey, would it not?

Giggle listened quietly and solemnly to the small bat's few words, watching his gem face shimmer under the orb-light as he turned to face up towards her. She nodded slightly at his request, remembered that he could not see, and spoke quietly.

"I will look, for you."

She picked her way back down the boulder and came up closer to the bat, peering along the lines and tumbled piles of bones. Her dark eyes drifted over this one, then that one, critically picking meaning from their shapes. At last, she nodded again.

"Lines edge out like water pouring from that loss. Lines, broken. Travel, a journey, but not a travel of the body. Communication, of some kind." She paused again, and tilted her head, looking over the bones, her tone indicating that even now she herself wasn't quite satisfied with this.

There has to be more.

She moved closer, and tilted her head. She was silent, for a moment.

"...An eye. Broken. It is clear: one sense was taken from you. But the blind, I think, will hear better. Feel more. If you wish to learn to listen to what speaks to you, you might do so more clearly. Do you know what an eye is, Tal'at?"

She asked this last in the same soft voice, padding very closer and sitting quietly down beside him, peering down at the fuzzy little creature.

________________

Roll the bones.

Tal'at's ears twisted as he listened to both the hyena's words and her paw steps, picking through the bones, looking them over for more answers. He stayed silent up until she asked him that crucial question, the one that held more answers in it's words than his reply could possibly have. An eye, the loss of sense, the blind. Eyes allowed one to see. He learned this, all from her simple question and the words she spoke before it. He was beginning to understand this world.

"I do not," he replied softly, considering. He knew of bones, the things that lay beneath his skin and were scattered around him. He could feel those, could know those. He did not know where the eye may lay on a beast, but he considered... The heavy weight. His winged paw, technically just a thumb of his wing, lifted up to his face to feel the odd, large orb that was implanted in his fur.

The bat thought about it. Most had eyes... Most saw as he did not, though they lacked the sense of Heartbeat. This thing on his face was not of fur and flesh, but of hard... rock... The cage. He remembered the prison, smooth and round, that he had come to consciousness in. It was similar to this, as smooth as the gem on his head. "Eye gives sight?" He pondered, sharing what he had interpreted from her words. "I have... other. Not the eye."

How bizarre.

Giggle lowered her head, placing her face right up against Tal'at.

"Here. Touch. Feel. These are eyes. I will try to describe sight. Things have shapes, like you feel. Eyes can feel things from far. Without touch. Like smell. Like hearing."

She would keep her face low, so the bat could feel or climb on or whatever, closing her eyes to cover them. This, too, she patiently and quietly explained.

"Eyes are very vulnerable. Skin covers them, like lips over teeth, to protect them. Even a touch can hurt. They are wet things. Like a nose. A tongue."

Giggle wondered briefly if it really mattered; she didn't pity the bat--he didn't need that, he was fine as he was. And she didn't know that bats in general did not often have good eyesight, though fruit bats did have better. She just knew that he did not, and so she would explain, she would teach. Knowledge--he was hungry for it, and she recognized it, and respected it. She would answer whatever questions he had, as best she could.

"We have two eyes. We can see with one but not so well. Like with one ear, you could not tell where a sound comes from, even if you see it. If both eyes are harmed, we cannot see. You have a gem where your eyes ought to be, I think. What else do you want to know?"

________________

Roll the bones.

Tal'at eagerly clambered up on to the hyena's muzzle, feeling around with his hind legs and his wings as he always did, exploring the way her face felt entirely different from his own. He felt her lashes, where the eyes were, careful not to press on them, just glide over the eyelids... They were sort of rounded, but inset into the head where his bulged out. He considered her words, taking them in.

Another thought came to mind, his understanding of the world opening before him like one might open a book down the middle and flick through the pages absently, randomly, all out of order. He settled down on top of her face and considered, finding the slope of her skull quite comfy, all things considered.

"Eyes see world. Are there textures? Qualities to seeing. Like high pitches, or bitter tastes. Bumpy or smooth, hot and cold, loud and soft." Surely there must have been, if it gave the creatures with eyes so much information. If they could see shapes from afar as he felt them, they must be sharp, strong differences between the senses that allowed them to pick things out and make sense of them as he did with noise and touches.

He would wait for her to explain. He would listen to the pages of the world until he had memorized the words it held within.

And here it was, the creature asking a question that made her think, and hard, too. This pleased her, and she sat with a soft, contented whuffling noise as she thought over Tal'at's question. She also left him on her head; it didn't bother her.

"...There are. There are... things that we call light and shadow, which are opposites, and things that we call color. I will try to explain them to you."

But how? How does one explain color to the blind...?

Giggle had to think this over for a good long moment before slowly and methodically tackling the question.

"Color is a quality that a thing has. It is like a taste of sweet or sour--plants are often a color we call green, and water, blue. Blood is red. I cannot describe these things better than you have--a quality, a pitch." She paused, considering, and then continued. "Things look fuzzy or hard or soft, too--soft things look different than hard things. Fluffy. Then there is light, and shadow. Light and shadow aren't things that are qualities of an object, but they affect how we see them. It is like..." She fished for ideas, frowning faintly.

"...Imagine if when things gave off sound, it helped you to hear things nearer to them, better. In the dark, the eye-silence, we can't see a thing. We are as blind as you. When light shines from something, though, it is lit up, and then we can see the colors. Shadows and lights can change the way things look quite a bit, the way a big room can make a thing echo."

Have I explained this well enough? Hmm...

"Light can't go through things, the same way sound doesn't go through things well, or smell. So light on one side of a rock, will still leave darkness--shadows--on the other. It is hard to describe it without... something to compare it to. Maybe the best way is to compare it to when things smell clearer, stronger, in damp air. It is like if you made your way by smell, and some items gave off wet to smell by. There are lights--balls--hanging on the cavern walls, which give off light. I do not know where they've come from."

Giggle then fell silent, waiting to see if the little bat would have anything more to ask from her. She enjoyed the conversation, and the company, and was content with his prodding of her mind. It helped her think of new things, after all, and to see from new perspectives, and what was better than that?

________________

Roll the bones.

Tal'at listened in silence, trying to picture sight, seeing, as Giggle described it. Light and shadow and color. The bat wondered, as the hyena thought it over, and finally she spoke again. Carefully. She was certainly giving it a good go, explaining as best one could to someone who couldn't quite relate. He remembered the plants, smooth and soft, and put to memory that they were green. Water, cool and wet, slippery; that was blue. Blood-- Wait. Wait.

The cats eye-bound mammal's ears perked at the word red. Blood. Red. Heartbeat. He didn't interrupt, but he knew the quality, the pitch, the tint of red. He could sense it, with his magical sense. It was faint for now, but he knew red. Was that what it was? A sight, like seeing with eyes? He could See the Heartbeats from afar... He kept quiet, his thoughts only his own, as he went on listening to her words. She had more to say, and he was hungry for every word, rereading the paragraph in the world's book about Red and Blood and Heartbeats. He saw the lines, and he could feel the raise of the ink on the page.

She began again, speaking of the dark and the light, how it helped to see things closer, how shadows and lights affected vision as echoes affecting hearing in a room. He clicked softly, the gentle tic fuzzily bouncing off of her fur, giving him only a blurry feeling of the top of her skull. Everything she said made sense, in an alien way. As if explaining emotions to a robot, or perhaps, motherhood to a child. It was easy to parse, even if it was hard to imagine without experience.

"I know Red. In the pulse. Heartbeat is red... May not see. But know Red," he spoke softly as she finished, wondering about the lights on the ceiling. He would have to fly up, crawl around, and find the lights. He had... Heard their shapes, sometimes, but... He had never investigated them. "Is like heat. Force of life. Creatures who breathe. Red is life." He paused.

"What of small... The little voice. Describe her please. Using color words. Light and shadows. Was she red?"

Giggle again listened, sitting in utter silence as Tal'at spoke. And then she thought about his words, and his question, mulling it over carefully.

"The little voice belonged to a fox-thing, small. Lithe. Big ears. Her fur was soft and pale brown. Tan. Almost gold--tawny. There are many words for it. She had two small horns, and they were light blue. So were her eyes. Her ends were black--like no-light. The tip of her tail, and her nose. Around the nose was paler, almost white, like bright-light."

What else can I say? Not much, unless he wants specifics..

She looked up, with her eyes, at the dark shape clasped to her face.

"You said that heartbeats are red. That life is red. You can see things? How? What do you see?"

It was her turn to be curious, the desire for new knowledge burning in her. She was unable to even sound patient, or wait, a hint of eagerness creeping through the thread of her voice.

________________

Roll the bones.