It was so much. So much knowledge to pick through, so much information to memorize, so many words to try and make sense of. Grishia tried to remember all of it, but she already knew she wouldn't, so she was concentrating hard, struggling to at least remember the important points.

But how did she know what was important? Biologically, she was little more than a baby. Her body wanted to eat, sleep and play. To learn at more of a wild beast's pace. But her mind...

Her mind, with its complete lack of worldly experience, was struggling to figure out which bits, out of everything she'd heard, were important. And she really didn't know. Frowning, fighting to remain focused, she settled on another question: a word, a place (she thought) she'd heard her mother mention.

"What's... the surface?" Grishia asked.

Giggle started a little. She'd... herself, seen so much, that it was so hard to even conceptualized not knowing. But that had been her, hadn't it? Just a few cycles ago? (Or was it years, now? Was this even the right-...)

Focus, Giggs, she told herself. This was not the time to be losing herself to borrowed memories.

"We're in caves. Tunnels. But those are in rock, right-? The rock itself is a moon. A moon's... a giant rock in space. And space," she went on, trying to explain before it all got too confusing, "is a huge empty place with stars. Suns. Other moons. Just darkness," and maybe that was terrifying. It had been, to her. She had had horrible experiences in the dark, and knowing that the universe was just shadows extending on forever--a lightless void barely touched by pinprick lights--hadn't been a great revelation for her. But she'd seen enough to move past that.

"When we leave the tunnels, and the caves--and we go out onto the rock? The moon? This moon is called Let. Then you're on the surface. And you can look up and see the stars, or the sun--stars are when it's night out. The sun and clouds, and the sky's blue--that's the daytime," and she'd sort of butchered that sentence, but oh well. "I can take you up there in a few days. When you've gotten a little more strength in your legs."

Okay, this--most of this, or maybe even all of this--was beyond her. She listened as she rode, frowning, and then considered it all again when Giggle had stopped talking.

Stars, moons, caves... She sort of got 'caves,' but the rest of it? She had no idea. But there was one thing Grishia understood. Her mother had just promised to take her once her legs were stronger. And to get stronger legs, Grishia knew at once, she had to exercise them.

So she turned, determined and silent, and clung to both her staff and her mom's fur for a moment before swinging her right leg back across Giggle's back, and dropping awkwardly to the floor. Then she clutched the staff, and began to walk. The bone golem came up alongside her, and she--eyes fixed resolutely on the horizon (well, the bones up ahead that marked the descent into the den)--marched.

She slid her gaze upward when she felt Giggle looking at her, and shrugged, as if to say, 'what?'

Giggle glanced down, offering a hyena's grin. "...I'll bring you anyway, Grishia. Don't worry. But by all means get those legs ready." She laughed, and leaned in, offering a playful and very light shoulder-bump; she felt Grishia bump back. But the cub was now on her own two feet (and wasn't that strange). And the golem was walking next to her.

She padded along, picking her path carefully, always attentive for potential danger--and to Omen's eyes on her other children. But they hadn't gone far to begin with; and the den was just ahead.

Soon enough Giggle was guiding Grishia toward the stagnant pool. "Drink some water and have a nap, okay, kid? I'll see about getting you all some more food." A mother's work was never done. "But get some rest. Tomorrow, we'll read the bones, and see what the future holds."

Grishia listened, silent still, and nodded once. Her fingers tightened around the staff's wood, a thumb running absently over a smooth opalized streak.

She was thinking. About a lot, still. About the surface, and Halfteeth. About bones, and liminal places. About her own bone creature. About death.

About sleep.

Sleep was maybe a liminal space. One of those spots between life and death. Or... no. Maybe? Or maybe the space between sleep and waking was a thing. Like when she'd first woken, and had a sense of something... more.

Then a bone (a loose one, accidentally kicked) rolled past, and her ears perked up, a cub's instinct to chase nearly spurring her ahead. She stopped herself, but all those thoughts easily fell away.

Within minutes they were returning to the den, Giggle urging her to drink and to rest. So she did: muzzle lapped at (kind of icky) water, and then Grishia picked a spot in mud and reeds just a little ways away. She wrapped her arms around a blank-stare monster made of bones, and dragged it back as she lay down, clinging to it as though it were a teddy bear. Her staff she kept behind her, tucked in the crook of one elbow so no one could take it while she slept.

She barely heard the rest of what Giggle was saying, and she was asleep before her mother padded back away to hunt. The day had been exhausting, and undoubtedly there would be more to come--but she was alive, now. Dreams rose up to claim her--things of bones and moons--but she was safe here, and they didn't wake her.

exit