Giggle knew little of the world outside of Canis. She'd only been outside the caves a couple times; if she had, perhaps she'd have been able to equate the Lorekeeper's tale to what others had already seen and heard.

She might have known of the buzzing that had left Cetus, or the twister in Monoceros, or the great dragon Raheerah. As it was, she simply listened, entranced, wondering. And all the while, while taking in the story itself--while shivering at the idea of a cursed marsh, or a tornado born of fire and ice; while bristling with fearful yet mischievous defiance at the idea of laying down to die before some "better" beings--she took mental notes.

She noted the Lorekeeper's mention of a tiny voice that fled, and as frightening as the concept was--truly disturbing, really--she kept it in her mind.

Was it all true?

She thought so. She thought it wasn't just a story, but a tale. Something of the Lorekeeper's past.

Giggle noted the rest, too, calculating brain picking out bits and pieces and committing them to memory; she turned them over in her mind's eye like gems under an orb-light, examining their facets from many angles and wondering what they meant.

A time of noise. Needing to hide, greater creatures that hunted lesser. Would we be lesser? The noise fell silent. A buzzing that moves, bringing death. A beast on the throne. A great beast whose purpose is to purge, but another to pacify? Were these caves some sort of strange experiment?

The idea was near-foreign to her; it reminded her of how she sometimes grew fungus on certain substrates to test their growth--and then destroyed them, to grow them elsewhere. Were they the results of some spore-printing gone wrong, then? She had always wished to know the history of the caves; she had always felt that there were dangers that only the past could prepare them for.

She had seen some sort of place of growth, perhaps a center of it--a market, a farm, she was not sure--in Orion. The idea that something monstrous had sat on that throne made her wonder what precisely the meaning had been.

With a shake of her head, she dismissed all thoughts as the story ended. She glanced up to the others, nodding briefly to them, then trotted down toward the boulders; the Lorekeeper had taken up residence not far from her own den. She slept where Giggle hunted, and so Giggle had taken to--as with all those who lived nearby and could not yet hunt--bringing her mice and rats. The creature didn't seem all that fit for hunting, but maybe she had secrets the hyena wasn't aware of.

Either way, the Lorekeeper still had her head down to rest when Giggle returned a few minutes later, a bloodied rat in her jaws, and the hyena delicately laid it behind the Lorekeeper's head before trotting back up toward her own den, lost in thought.

She liked the Lorekeeper's presence, her sort of wry cunning, and she would like nothing more than to sit with her and speak all day. But the story had worn the crippled Gembound, that much was clear--and Giggle had things to ask the bones.

This tale needed more looking into.

________________

Roll the bones.

When the story stopped, she blinked, having the familiar feeling of drifting out of a dream. Listening to someone else's story was incredible, like being truly asleep. When she told them, she controlled the dream, but...not being control was nice too. Almost....relaxing. She felt a maelstrom of emotions, like she was a leaf in the wind, played upon with no choice in the matter. It was both nice and horrible at the same time, a beautiful dance of a double-edged sword. It hurt, yet...the experience of the story was something she treasured. The imagery they described still felt imprinted upon her mind. She felt true fear when the lorekeeper described the death and destruction of the chaos beast, the master of fire and mayhem, the ashes of their friends, laying there, alone, unsure of whether or not they would live. That...that must've been the worst feeling in the entire world. Remembering it caused her breath to catch and shudder. Pray to the Caves that would never happen to her- to anyone, anyone again. Was this fact? Did it answer anything for her? She didn't pay that much mind. She only appreciated the dream as it came to her, and loved listening to it with all her heart. The first story she'd ever heard. She turned to her cub, who was smiling and sniffling at her, and smiled back. "Did you enjoy it? You should tell them so, and say thank you." She stood and bowed low to the lorekeeper, saying a very quiet thank you, mindful of the creature needing to take a rest. She knew the feeling of tiredness that inhabited the bones after a telling. "Come along, my love." [Exit] "This is how I speak."

Staring up at her he nodded as she spoke softly. 'Did you enjoy it? You should tell them so, and say thank you.' He had to say his thanks! The Lorekeeper had given them such a wonderful story! One from their own life even, filled with trials and terror! But she looked so tired now.

Being mindful of the doe's words he quietly walked up to the canid beast. Whispered to the best of his ability a short thank you and goodbye. Only to find himself thanking her a bit longer on how wonderful the story was and how he wished her a good rest! 'Come along, my love.' The ethereal doe kindly reminded him.

With quick feet he said another final 'goodbye' as he ran after her. Leaving the room of bone that he now knew by the name of Canis. All the while excited for whenever the Lorekeeper would wake up again. Refreshed and in the mood for another story time!

[exit]


"Speech"

"Thought"