"Is Tanny left?" Aure had not seen any other bird-like creatures in Canis, none that seemed like himself or his big brother. Where were the others, then? Were they gone, too? Never to be met or played with? Mother gave Father's stone life again. So… was he Azazel, still? It didn't feel right to think that. No, he was different. He couldn't place any faces in his mind, and there were none that he couldn't recognize immediately. From his imagination, though, sprung a myriad of odd creatures that matched his mental image of the late King.

The Bonebound were, as it seemed, like family in the same way that friends were. Similar, but not quite. "You and Tanny always Bonebound," Aure said softly, in an almost questioning tone. The only other word he had heard bound in was Gembound, but that meant the colorful things stuck to every one. He knew what bones were, and that they were within everything and stayed behind when flesh and blood left. They did not keep their gems, usually. Father had come up with it, too. The little wyvern peered down at his chest, wing rubbing against the left side of it and feeling his sternum and ribs. "We… stay with bones. Never go." The bones he had had not belonged to Azazel — not now, not ever. He didn't feel anything misplaced in him, or different from what his stone seemed to remember. There was no dysphoria to speak of. As young as he was, Aure seemed to be rather clued in on the idea of death. If he himself died, he would stay with his bones. Or… when Mother did, she'd stay there too, and in his heart. The poor baby nearly cried at that thought. Mother could not die.

Instead, he smooshed his face ever-deeper into Mother's flank. "Why do you no call Bonebound? You was Father's friend." Even if it wasn't right now that he'd be making his choice, he still didn't feel like he was up for it. Mother was endlessly wise and had stood by the first Bone King. Why shouldn't she do it? Or Tanny? Tanny was one of Azazel's sons, too. Or any of the other children, if they weren't dead and gone? "I wait," Aure murmured softly, trying to dismiss the idea of choosing for now.

But, as the truth came out, a moral dilemma sprouted in poor little Aure's mind. Tanny had hurt their father? And let him fall? Father had been sad, but Tanny had wings too and could have helped him. If they argued, then Tanny had to have known how sad and hurt Father was. But he felt sorry. Aure's ears drooped, even as Mother nudged and nuzzled him gently. She told him not to blame his brother, that he was sorry. In a way, Tanny was why Aure even existed, and not Azazel. But, if Azazel was sad, would he have fallen anyways? Even without Tanny? The little wyvern was too young to understand the intricacies of all of that, emotions and the unforgiving depths they can drag unsuspecting Gembound into.

Even as Mother told him that the Bone King would have wanted the family to be together, Aure felt like it wasn't possible. The neonate honestly wanted to cry, unable to really process why the bones were the end of everything. Somehow, though, he managed to restrain himself and swallow down his tears. He should be happy to be here. "I wish… Father and I could be here. Together. And with you." It was an impossible wish, but one nonetheless. Aure was unaware of the blessing he had of being able to know about his previous stone-holder, to know his past. But, in a way, weren't they already together, the three of them? Even if Tanny had hurt Father? Family didn't fight. It was the wrong thought to have, but it was all Aure knew.

Mother's distraction worked rather successfully, as Aure's train of thought flew away with the perk of his ears. Moments later, images and gentle feelings swept through his mind unbidden. Father's voice had been soft, gentle, benevolent; it had a rather lilting edge to it that shifted with each bob of his head as he spoke. A wing-claw moved up to his face, resting against his cheek as he took in the sight of his father, undeniably a bird. So, Aure truly had inherited Father's rugged good looks and eyes. His beard had yet to grow in, but it would someday. And there was one last image: of his distant flight, like a ghost near Canis's roof. Aure blinked, and the memory faded away.

"I look like Father," he said softly, reverently, "but not." Unsure of how to word his next sentiment, he paused. Taking the chance to clamber onto Mother's shoulder, he thought about it. Fully meaning to talk about voice, Aure chirped as he settled down atop rusty, spotted fur, "I like Father's… talk sound."

@Giggle

Giggle gave her answers calmly, a sort of emotional weariness overtaking her. She was gentle in her words and tone.

"No, Eythan was not Bonebound. He is family now, though, and I would think if we call ourselves Bonebound again he would be among us." If Eythan had ever been called by that name, Giggle was unaware of it; the last she'd known of the Bonebound was led by Azazel, and Eythan's existence had been wholly unknown to her.

She knew that Carni--at least according to Eythan himself--had claimed the title of Bone King, but she had no idea who had 'served' under him, or what have you.

I wonder what he was like? she found herself thinking, rather sadly. She might have to ask Eythan what had happened to his stone; he hadn't deserved to die, from what little she'd been told. The one of two Azazel's sons, the one named Bone King by Azazel himself, without hesitation--the one who had balked at his father's murder, and tried to fight for justice. Likewise murdered.

Faint bitterness overcame her. Another of Azazel's children, and now one--thanks that fuckwit, Eythan--she would never know. I'm sorry, Azazel. I hadn't even thought of it before. He ought to have been shown some kind of proper respect.

"Yes," she continued, though, to Aure--pulling her mind back into the present. "He had a very calming voice. It matched him well--thoughtful, kind, but confident, yes?"

She scooted down against the rock, lying close to her child, thinking how strange this all was.

How strange it was to have a new child, yes; but to have another child of Azazel here, alive, with her. To have all these memories dredged up, and remnants of the Bonebound pulling together. To have created a life with her old friend's stone, without him here to see it.

Bitter grief threatened to overwhelm her, and she comforted herself by comforting Aure in turn--shifting to press her nose to his neck, and moving to groom over his feathers once again.

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ROLL THE BONES

@Auré

So… had the Bonebound died out before the Bone King? Was that the biggest reason why he was so sad? They must have vanished as if he had failed them and he took it too deeply to heart. Eythan never got the chance to truly call himself a Bonebound, Aure thought. To be fair, neither had he — he was only two weeks old, after all.

Coincidentally, the little wyvern also began to wonder about the other son that Mother had mentioned. Where was he? Had he been first heir to the title of Bone King? There was a hesitance in her voice, giving him plenty of time to mull over this. Aure imagined a small, pale bird with great wings and a tail that stretched from one end of this den to the other. There were some details that were off, but the general idea was there. Where had this heir gone? Was he… dead like Azazel? Putting two and two together there, he narrowed his eyes. Had Eythan hurt the heir, too? Even if he seemed sorry and Mother believed him, what if he came to hurt Aure next. An unintentional wariness came about the wyvern as he drew conclusions, stringing them together. It was mired in confusion, from the fact that he loved Eythan so much and that seemed to be reciprocated in kind. Hearing Mother speak brought Aure back to reality, and he decided then and there that she wouldn't allow that. Mother wouldn't let Tanny hurt him, ever.

"Voice feel warm," he chirped softly, eagerly as Mother shifted underneath him to stick her cold, wet nose into his neck. With a surprised squeal, Aure mock-pounced on her nose with a little growl, beak barely snipping at it. With a flare of his wings, he batted at the intruding nose. After a few more playful assaults on Giggle's nose, the little wyvern settled back down and accepted any possibly oncoming grooming. Happy to change the subject from the headiness of death and destruction, he rubbed at his gem-brow with an itty bitty wing-claw. "We try magic again? Show other..." actually unsure of what mushrooms were called, he waved toward the double fairy ring surrounding the duo, "please?"

@Giggle

The little dark brown fluff-with-wings suddenly launched an attack on her nose, and it took her from sad and calm to cheerfully brutish in all of half a second. Playfulness roiled through her, and--pleased that her child was healthy and bright enough to wrestle--she barely waited for Aure to ask his questions before shoving forward, attempting to flip him back with her snout--gently, yet with just enough roughness to be a game--with a soft mock-growl of her own.

There was laughter in it, good-natured and warm.

She brought her long paws down on either side, as if pouncing but missing, her large jaws opening to show thick teeth as she slowly, gently "bit" at his limbs in very slow motion. Of course, should he show any fear, she'd back off at once, and reassure him--but otherwise, she had every intention of engaging him in rough play for a few moments.

It was, upon reflection, good practice and something they shouldn't skip. It was rather a shame he had no other little siblings to grow with.

Perhaps I should have raised him some brothers and sisters, as well, she realized--a little too late, of course.

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ROLL THE BONES

@Auré

Aure was admittedly surprised when the very nose he had so viciously assaulted struck back at him, shoving into his chest and sending him onto his back with flailing wings. Not unlike a turtle, he wiggled back and forth. His little talons stuck straight up into the air, kicking frantically but carefully at Mother's muzzle. His little tail wagged in and out of existence, and he sputtered out giddy little laughs despite himself.

Quickly drawing his legs in and away from his "attacker," the little wyvern curled himself up and batted at Mother's face with his wings. "I get you!" Aure cawed loudly, shoving off with his legs as well. With an eager squeal, he tried to nip again at Mother's nose when it came close; it was, after all, his fiercest form of attack.

@Giggle

Giggle snorted, then sneezed, as Aure courageously did battle with her nose. Then she laughed, and flopped down beside him, trying to avoid his strikes while also trying to lay her head's weight on him briefly to pin him down, repeatedly--then let him up to attack again.

After a few moments of this, on her side and warmly amused, she spoke.

"I thought you wanted to learn magic, little one? What is all of this savagery?" It was, of course, humorous teasing; she knew she'd been the one to further initiate the play. "Why don't you see if you can grow a few mushrooms around me? You can use them in battle, you know, if you do it right."

Her tone, again, was easygoing--warm encouragement; and she waited to see if he would manage either to focus, or if so, to cast.

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ROLL THE BONES

@Auré

The sheer force of Mother's sneeze was enough to bowl the little baby over and force a surprised squeak from him. Then, as her heavy head flopped onto his body, Aure flapped his wings against her muzzle repeatedly. His laughs had grown from little giggles to uproarious barks of laughter as he continued to mock-wrestle Mother's face. As she spoke, he finally stopped and laid flat next to her. Breathing a little heavily, he rolled onto his stomach and sprawled his legs out behind him in classic sploot fashion. Behind him, his tail still wagged eagerly and fiercely.

"You scare me!" As if to show off just how Mother had done so, he wiggled forward a little --- not daring to disturb his perfect sploot maneuver --- and snuffed his beak in her ruff. "I attack, rrrrrah!" As punctuation, he gave his fiercest little roar and growl.

Peering around, the little wyvern observed the mushrooms. Aure narrowed his eyes and rubbed at his gem-brow again, warming up and trying to focus on them. He tried to imagine a different kind of mushroom, maybe one that was white with little silver feathers. It was sort of like an umbrella turned inside out; not that Aure knew what an umbrella was. Honing in on that image, he peered closer at the dirt and rock and ferns. Flapping little, chocolaty wings and getting into proper sitting position, the wyvern tried his hardest to conjure up a little circle of the umbrella-shrooms around Mother. Rather steadily, they did rise, into a scarce little circle around the duo. It was barely an inch or two thick in diameter, and rather inconsistent and unsteady.

Fortunately, it was what Aure had wanted from his magic, and he chirped in glee as he marched over to the shrooms to inspect them. They were so pretty, so cute! He plucked one from the earth, holding it carefully in the tip of his beak, and spun on his heel. Skipping over to Mother, he leaned down and presented the delicate little shroom with unrivaled eagerness. Setting it down on the floor, he squealed, "I do!"

@Giggle

"Very good!" praised Aure's thankfully observant, and wonderfully warm, mother. Wasn't she fantastic? She watched, idly, and then had an idea.

She stood, pacing over to the shelves just nearby the den, set into the ledges of the stone and set with healthy amounts of varying substrate--dirt, manure, old and rotten wood, carrion.

Upon each of these lay a different type of mushroom, forming a garden of sorts half-hidden behind the sickly ferns.

"Now, this might help you! There's all sorts of different mushrooms--so many that even I don't know them all. And they can all be used for different things. The more you know, the more uses you can put them to. Would you like to learn?"

The hyena paced up higher, and nudged a few of the mushrooms.

There were more bioluminescent ones, and there were red-orange ones that looked somewhat hard but tasted mouth-wateringly like fresh carrion food. There were thick, oily black ones, and reddish brown, and lighter brown with domed tops, and so on and so forth, all along the walls.

Giggle sniffed over them, and then nudged the orange-red ones with the delightful scent. "Here, come here," she encouraged Aure. "Smell--but don't eat. Smells good, right?"

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@Auré

Made ecstatic by the evidently high praise, the little wyvern fluffed his feathers out and took the mushroom back into his beak. Spinning again, he placed it back in the haphazard circle, carefully sticking it back into the dirt. Turning to the sound of Mother's voice, Aure perked his ears up. Cantering over, the hybrid noticed the absolute plethora of mushrooms growing into the shelves. How had he not noticed all of these before!

Nodding vigorously at Mother's offerings of learning, the baby shuffled closer, marveling at the variety. There were so many glowing ones, and some that smelled tasty! Some were like the umbrella ones he had grown and others were rather odd-looking, like ripples of water. Stretching himself up as high as he could, Aure took a big wiff of the carrion-shrooms and sighed dreamily. "Smells good," he parroted eagerly, half-tempted to take even a little nibble; but Mother said not to, so he wouldn't. Instead, he looked over at the oily black mushrooms. The ichor clinging to them was rather entrancing, and --- for some odd reason --- he wondered if he could make them grow on himself.

Magic unbidden drifted from his stone to his nape, as little frills grew. There were very few, but they most certainly were enough to notice. Unable to see them properly, the little wyvern spun around and around. The sight was not unlike a dog trying to chase its tail or some piece of food that had been dropped on its back. "Mother, thing on my spine!" Rather confusedly, the hybrid hopped toward the hyena, lowering his head so she could see better.

@Giggle

Giggle snorted with some amusement, trotting over to peer over the small patch of black fungus.

"Yes," she agreed. "You can grow whatever you like on yourself, but that stuff in particular's nice. You can grow it and it's very hard to bite or claw, like... goo on you! If someone is attacking you, you can use that to try and make it so they can't hurt. Here, I'll show you."

She focused for a moment, and there was a brief series of quiet "pops" as the selected sample of ever-present spores in the hyena's coat near-instantly burst into fruiting. She was covered, now, in the slick black--and she dropped down low, crouching near Aure with a mischievous smirk on her dark muzzle.

"Right, attack me now! Like you did before! Try to hold on or bite or claw, just don't swallow any. It's gross," she warned, amused.

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ROLL THE BONES

@Auré