Bones was a very simple dog with simple pleasures; he enjoyed talking to Kerberos and the Lorekeeper, even if he didn't get to often. Especially with the Lorekeeper and her painfully twisted legs; it reminded him of his own barely-working back legs. He would do his best to hunt for the old canine-like creature, but his efforts were often met with silence. He wasn't too bothered, however - he knew that even staying awake as taxing enough for her and he didn't wish to keep her awake longer than she had to be. Kerberos, however - his three-minded brother, was filled with boundless energy. It was energy that Bones himself couldn't find anymore - something he had long since lost along with the ability to run around the circuit.

His second favourite activity was the aforementioned running. He used to do it every day - sprinting as fast as he possibly could when he was still a pup while his mother - the now broken hyena, Giggle - would watch quietly from her bone pile. He loved it to death - the feeling of stagnant Canis hair suddenly springing to life and surging through his fur and past his ears, opening his mouth and letting his tongue loose. Collapsing on the ground, panting happily and contentedly, only to get up again minutes later and do it all over again. Of course - he still could, but it wasn't the same. Bevy, poor Bevy, had done her absolute best to mend his legs and his spine, but the bones within his fur still creaked and ached if he moved far too often; but they never ached more than his heart does to return to the feeling of being a pup again; carelessly bounding through bones with his brother close by and his mother watching.

It did lead to his utmost favourite thing to do however - paint. He would grab rats and - perhaps crudely - kill them and paint with their blood. It was messy, it was gruesome, but it worked just fine. It left the marks he needed on the walls of Canis, and soon the walls had become wholly decorated with Bones' paintings of the people he knew and loved. There was Giggle and her newly-added bird companion, Kerberos and Bevy, and even Azazel. He wanted to paint their families with them - but Azazel had more children than the dog could keep count; but for now the bird-like creature and the mute-creature were with him, Liora and Ashtoreth. Under Bevy and Kerberos were their son - Bones' nephew - Scarborough. He was sad to see the drawings however; it reminded him of how he could never touch Bevy and show his gratitude for her, but he was able to touch noses with the dried blood on the wall.

It wasn't the same.

Bevy had faded on the wall; almost as if the blood and brick knew she was gone. Logically - Bones knew it was the frequent touching that caused the paint to wear out, but he couldn't help but find it strange that she was the only one fading into the wall, while Scarborough, her son, seemingly glowed. Perhaps it was his own eyes, however - but Bones never did have a taste for such theatrical drama such as this.

Among over-thinking, there were other issues that would arise with Bones' hobby. He had to run and hunt for rats. Often, he would hunt for painting before he would hunt for food - and in the past, he would receive strange looks from the gembounds who would offer him fresh kill; only to have him dunk his paws in it and begin painting. Perhaps it was rude of him - but now Bones would frequently find himself hunting for his own sake. He didn't like having to be dependent on other people anyway, it rubbed him the wrong way at times.

It was here Bones found himself now, however - crouched with his weight on his front legs rather than his semi-broken back legs, over-sized ears lifted and rotating as he waited for the chance to hunt. His ears could pick up a variety of things - but most importantly, it picked up on the quickened beats of a rodent's heart and the scratching of their paws in their burrows.

It only got harder for Bones to hunt, realistically, but he could do it well. It took mostly patience, the rats did not often come out of their burrows in fear of being hunted - the gembounds of Canis were often grueling, starving creatures after all, especially with beasts like Kerberos who had an endless pit inside of his gut. Bones waited in silence, eyes wide and ears pricked.

Eventually, he saw it - a fairly plump rat bumbling along the wall. Bones was not sure how anything could become overweight in Canis, but he wasn't about to argue with it. He leaned forward, slowly at first - until the rat spotted him. The rodent turned and began running the other way with it's tail behind it. The sudden movement caused Bones to leap out of his spot and come sprinting after it.

The rat - who had an amethyst gem sticking out of it's back - was surprisingly fast. Faster than Bones and his aching legs could keep up with, in fact, and within seconds Bones was trailing behind the rat, a good few feet away from being able to make the kill.

Bones slowed to a stop, and the rat turned a corner and went missing into one if it's burrows. The African dog was left panting and wheezing, lowering himself down onto his belly to catch his breath as he glared after the rat that had escaped him. He felt his glare soften abruptly however, as his head dropped onto the floor below and he lay for a good while, rapidly expunging hot air through his mouth.

Canis was still as dry and dusty as ever. Today was like the internal workings of a solarium-- the lights blinding enough, running at full kilt as though they had somewhere to be. Ashtoreth hated days like that-- the shadows edges were crisp and dangerous, and one wrong step and her father would find her, if he was even looking.

No one was really looking for her though. They all kept to themselves, though sometimes she thought Kerberos was loping towards her. Thankfully the idiot didn't follow her after catching site of her and watching her scramble off into some cracks... The colossal white menace seemed only to care that she was still alive and inside Canis. It was fine by her: Canis was safe. She hated everyone who lived there, somedays more so than others, but no one dared try take on the gatekeeper.

Still, hunting was still something she had to do, lest she starve to death. She could simply stand in the glistening lights for half the day, using her magic, but that would cause someone to come pester her. Shadows and hunting it was. Safe and quiet and alone. No one would bother her.

As she crept towards her prefered hunting ground, she noted that someone else had already taken up the hunting spot. A silent growl cut through her teeth, but she wasn't exactly close enough to Bones to outright hate him. He had never done anything wrong; he and his mother, Giggle, were both decent dogs. Unlike the son, on a bad day Ashtoreth could find some hatred for Giggle. She was supposedly some kind of future seer, despite how unorthodox she was. Kerberos adored her, lauded his mother to death-- and yet, if she was so perfect, how had the Bonebound failed to protect Ash in her youth?

Bones was a half-lame dog with a talent for painting, not a hero. He was just some gembound. She wanted to hate him, but even watching him fail to catch a fat, plump rat that would have been enough to keep Ash for days was enough to make her feel bad for him, rather than turn her bitterness towards him. With a huff, she scampered down into a crack in the wall, where the shadows grew dark. It was rare for any rats to hang out in such a large opening, but maybe she'd be lucky.

The winged noodle's eyes lit up at the sight of a mouse trying to get out of her way. She snatched the cave mouse in her teeth immediately, her momentum crashing her into the cavern wall, but as she gasped for breath the mouse only twitched under her. It was a scrawny thing comparatively to the catch that Bones had missed, but she grabbed its tail and stumbled out of her hole, ignoring the ache in her neck and shoulder.

It wasn't long before she made her way over to the panting dog, eyes glistening. She held up her chin, proudly showing off what she had caught to him. Her wings spread out behind her like an oddly placed cape of black and white, as she waited for his response.

Listen to me + Hear my thoughts

Bones felt like a thousand cycles old in that moment; he had gone from a fairly dignified position of laying on his belly to flopping over onto his side instead, dust throwing up with the impact of him half-collapsing. He had not noticed the lurking figure near by - far more occupied with the sensation of air escaping this throat which seemed to only be getting hotter instead of cooler.

The situation was definitely not new to him - too many times did he find himself in this position, limp on the ground with his legs aching, feeling as though they were pulsating with pain. It didn't bother him anymore, and he was well aware that if his breathing wasn't so heavy and frantic he may have looked like nothing more than a corpse in that moment.

He had half-expected Giggle or Kerberos to turn up before he could fully recover; but he could not hear the familiar thumping of the hell-hound's paws or the sound of the old hyena dragging herself along towards him. He had not even heard Ashtoreth approach him, with his over-sized ears plastered to the back of his head.

A split second passed until amber eyes caught sight of the hybrid; the surprise of the semi-familiar face sent a new surge of energy through the painted dog's aching body that shot him upright, dust clinging to the fur on one side of his face. He did not dare stand; as not to scare the hybrid away by towering over her, but also to give his hind legs a break.

The only thing Bones really knew about Ashtoreth was that she was one of Azazel's children; not just by coming across her egg by random one day, but by blood. He had no idea who her other parent could be, but he supposed it did not matter much. The second thing that Bones knew about the vulture-hybrid was her inability to speak. It did not bother him much - Scarborough had not been very talkative either.

"Hello," he said quietly, offering a small lick to the side of Ashtoreth's muzzle, though he would quickly pull away if she happened to show discomfort at the guesture. Only then, however, did he notice the mouse in her jaws.

"Nice catch," he said encouragingly. He was fairly sure that, although Ashtoreth was much younger than he was, that she was supposed to be something like a second mother in the family tree. He wasn't so sure. Things like that confused him. "Smaller rats like that are usually quicker and hard to catch."

He flicked his ears kindly, briefly shaking the dust off his neck and fur. He was happy for her - his tail contentedly thumped hollowly off the cave floor. It was only now that he really noticed the appearance of the hybrid; the fluffy feathers clinging to her neck and her wings, which didn't come near her neck like he had initially thought - but rather started closer to her thighs. She reminded him of something heroic and do-goodery-like, which may as well have been a change form the dragon that had wounded him all those cycles ago.

"I haven't seen you in a while," he said. "You look good. Healthy."