He saw nothing but an inky blackness; unlike the one he had seen before. There was nothing here, truely nothing. He didn't feel the strange sensations condensed into his mind, the warmth or the wet. Nothing.

Slowly the dog opened his eyes with a quiet whimper, paws over a femur he had recently decided to take around with him. He tried over and over again to feel what he did in his mother's bones pile, but to absolutely no avail. It upset him, to an extent.

If the bones wanted to show him something, why wouldn't they show him it again? Did Giggle have off days like these? He wasn't too sure, so he pushed the femur bone away and looked around the hyena's mushroom-ridden den. He had gotten accustomed to the sight of this place, though for other reasons than it was simply where he slept.

As time went on, Bones could bring himself to stand; but walking was a completely different story. There were days when Bones could do nothing more than lie in the same spot eating the same rats and crying over the same problems until the next day when he could try again to stand up and walk out.

And then there were days when he felt he could run faster than ever before; but everytime he tried it ended with twice as many tears and a rather sore face from when he'd fall over without even getting out of the cave. On more than one occasion he nearly planted into Giggle's mushroom garden.

Today was the former day - his legs felt unusually stiffand he could do nothing more than lay where he was, staring at the mouth of the den with huge eyes and pricked ears.